I have washed my ****** hands
in the hope colored stream
of my own karma;
a futile attempt.
The waters cleansed my hands
But stained my soul with
The leprous audience of
The singularity of my being.
I have waded souldeep
Into the stained waters
Of my own karma;
A quantum baptism.
My sins and triumphs
My denials and truths lain bare,
Visions which burn into the circle
Of all that I was, am, and yet to be.
I have become the hope colored water
Of my own floundering fate.
I am the circle, the enigma;
I stand within and without.
I encompass myself
And wait to be born
Into a new solitude
Of radiant wonder.
Feb 18, 2011
Feb 18, 2011 at 4:57 PM UTC
I have washed my ****** hands
in the hope colored stream
of my own karma;
a futile attempt.
The waters cleansed my hands
But stained my soul with
The leprous audience of
The singularity of my being.
I have waded souldeep
Into the stained waters
Of my own karma;
A quantum baptism.
My sins and triumphs
My denials and truths lain bare,
Visions which burn into the circle
Of all that I was, am, and yet to be.
I have become the hope colored water
Of my own floundering fate.
I am the circle, the enigma;
I stand within and without.
I encompass myself
And wait to be born
Into a new solitude
Of radiant wonder.