Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
my soul shine light,
silent waters deep,
tomorrows are promised
& waters wash away all doubt.
bless your soul,
quest your soul,
know your place.
& like a tent,
pieces scattered on the ground.
step by step
is all it takes
to see that purpose can be found,
if you seek.
words can bring life
or cut sharp,
as a knife at your throat
forming portals to aid a spiritual escape.
words can bring fate
or bring smiles to the face of the beholder.
words are everything
still nothing.
is it the higher order construct
or impudent conduct,
is it only bore
or is there more?
to you,
to me,
there is a mystery that turns madness
to magic,
if we let it.
swings like pendulums
on planets at the heart
& at core.
doors are opening
& more life is channeling into source
to explore & expand,
running away is easy,
almost too easy.
its like all words turn to tear drops
in attempt
to introduce shallow to depth.
my excuse is deep sadness,
what's yours?
since my contributions are unsteady like the grounds i walk,
id rather not give nor take.
here's an ode to midnight drains and
dreams suffocated by pointless comparison
amongst rare forms of being.
in a world of misfits,
comparison steals all joy.
in a world of misfits,
who cares if only 1% can relate to the comprehension of
dark & light,
as whole.
who cares when soul outweighs modern roles
played by vamps,
getting hype while you drain.
i take hype in doses,
to help me to 'loosen up' at pity parties
where i'd dance if 3D grounds were stable.
but my energy, is it dead?
is it still dying
as i continue to realize my own sense of aliveness?
we are all god looking through separate lens.
i see promise in the astral realm
to realize truth within the physical.
when normal dreaming becomes bore,
day dream wont let me explore far enough
to go deep enough to unlock words they wont say...
financial intelligence,
symbolic terms,
number codes
& sound programming.
progressing in alignment,
meeting guidance half way.
so now,
i take the first step.
if i look right,
i may look left.
who cares what's next?
unless creation turned creator.
wanna be way too involved
over simple catering to one-sided mono-polys.
polyester in the fields,
no more cotton to be reeled.
no more lovers left alive,
Next page