To blindly follow : voiceless to
reality as it splits the seams of hope,
seems senseless in the modern day.
Desire in minor doses, keep me afloat
while I play in the darkened margins of faith.
To ripen: ripping my voids wide open to
bask in the space. Become undone,
unpicked at every outline as they blur
into one. Will you join me?
In worlds where we could drift, depth
in the sound of a hollow early morning,
there could be something beyond the silence.
It grows, alongside urgency, while we
wait for pulses to rise higher than
the rule of day. Then, would you play?
Jul 16, 2019
Jul 16, 2019 at 6:24 PM UTC
To blindly follow : voiceless to
reality as it splits the seams of hope,
seems senseless in the modern day.
Desire in minor doses, keep me afloat
while I play in the darkened margins of faith.
To ripen: ripping my voids wide open to
bask in the space. Become undone,
unpicked at every outline as they blur
into one. Will you join me?
In worlds where we could drift, depth
in the sound of a hollow early morning,
there could be something beyond the silence.
It grows, alongside urgency, while we
wait for pulses to rise higher than
the rule of day. Then, would you play?
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