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jacob-oatesPoems
Stone faced destruction, a craft in a void What does it matter if it can never be created or destroyed? Event horizon guide me, living got you annoyed? Like an atom we split, and through the dirt that we sift Seeds of conditional omission baring down for the drift Intentions spread on the wind, now bereft of the wit Scattershot the lot and hold me down with the gift If I'm breathing you'll see me believing in my condition No bereaving is needed when I have made my decision It's not a death of the ego; why it's a call to confirm it Leave your name at the tone, and I will prove I deserve it Message, misinterpreted, deterred but I'm building I hit the chisel to my brain, I carved the marker I'm gilding I knew that no seed would grow until the weeds had been slain Now every moment I'm living converting power from pain As I can offer no service, until I have made myself work So I have left from the room, where all the chatter continues to plant myself in the dirt, so I replenish my sinews Confusing my silence for inaction on a whim could prove deadly I'm stacking my arsenal, stick around for the medley.
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Apr 17, 2015
Apr 17, 2015 at 5:00 AM UTC
Boosting My Sinews Continues
Stone faced destruction, a craft in a void What does it matter if it can never be created or destroyed? Event horizon guide me, living got you annoyed? Like an atom we split, and through the dirt that we sift Seeds of conditional omission baring down for the drift Intentions spread on the wind, now bereft of the wit Scattershot the lot and hold me down with the gift If I'm breathing you'll see me believing in my condition No bereaving is needed when I have made my decision It's not a death of the ego; why it's a call to confirm it Leave your name at the tone, and I will prove I deserve it Message, misinterpreted, deterred but I'm building I hit the chisel to my brain, I carved the marker I'm gilding I knew that no seed would grow until the weeds had been slain Now every moment I'm living converting power from pain As I can offer no service, until I have made myself work So I have left from the room, where all the chatter continues to plant myself in the dirt, so I replenish my sinews Confusing my silence for inaction on a whim could prove deadly I'm stacking my arsenal, stick around for the medley.
#self#mind#purpose#motivation#goals
jacob-oates
Written by
jacob-oates
American
Apr 17, 2015
Apr 17, 2015 at 5:00 AM UTC
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