SUMMER

Summer, it's the time of the Pleiadians
that wreak havoc on our minds
  they stretch confusion, and weave into a crass frame,
   that clicks, steams and
there's spurns of logic...
that isn't from any human mind

The meek enter a new dragon,
confrontation, and the ******* dressed women...
    subdue all thoughts,
     that abstinence is divine

As summer song,
and any breeze that souls touch
   like lavender mooring to the original stem
    then to the roots,
      a distance and freedom for each blossom -
acclaim and scents of haven, heated, heaven

But alone the hot airs and sky, wind, gradate, simmer then
    toss the very thoughts that had cast our hope full plot
     and destitute are as within the aesthetic
       visions that lay before thee

Belittled without a serenity, with no holistic bounty,
from the scientific worldly charms;
a soul is lost on the burning, egg frying pavements
of our confounded time

But in step a shadowy dirge,
  of the supposed renowned procrastinates
   so little that the fury of chains, faiths and inners
   of thought, made for intrinsic inculcations,
   maybe for a Summer triste forthright is that which can emerge.