Sometimes I get carried away, I turn a few lines into a few stanzas
All that carry the same thought wrapped in different metaphors
Those are my writings that get left behind in the dust

I often forget that my words can stretch around the world five times
Then wrap again back to the axis and far too long to comprehend
They get overshadowed by these shorter laps around the globe

They sink into the far depths of the ocean into the uncharted abyss
They wrap around each other like lace and take breath out from every drowned out idea that I cast into the unforgiving sea

Perhaps this is why they get left unread like unraveled thread that longs to be intertwined within a masterpiece to be marveled upon by the masses and-

I'm doing it again aren't I?