Take a visit to the house of minds,
Before bodies burn it brazen to the ground.
The thoughts of many minds are living there;
Awaiting Resurrection.
Wander through the alleyways and gaze
Freely on the work of living hearts;
Living hearts and hearts that lived before;
Although their passioned hands write no more.
A reconstructed forest,
Run through the leaves,
And seek, explore the worlds you’ll never see.
Slip into other minds, letting ink alone
Make you smile, bring you to tears.
A magic craft that can occupy your thoughts
For years,
And possess your conscience in the dark.
Hearts rumble,
Eyes Spark.
The walls encapture voices never lost.
Their words comfort the people feeling lost.
It proves teleportation already exists;
The first time a caveman drew in mud,
With a rock or a stick,
Marks the first time humanity began this
Eternal struggle for immortal bliss.
Written sometime in early 2013, after there was a fire at a library. Really strange reading back on old poems, a bit like I'm reading a stranger's writing.
