Miserable I am, stucked. My mind's wynds, entwined. Inside burning, being indecisive. Attempted to decipher, all in vain. A maze unsolved; the unsaid pain Perplexed **** thoughts' umbra Darking in pursuit of seeking. The more they amalgamate; the more I Separate Wretched. Same do all bear? Distracted by despair; I ended up nowhere.
Watching the archetypal parable filler sealing his fate with a seed, and see the walls of the story blossoming off to the sky.
It seems to offer impossibility bottled and wreathed, a leaf in season to whittle through to the blossom in time.
The time he took to fear it, board windows, ignoring the means, and flailing crops are not to halt the work ,and question the why.
He finds a seed to bury deep within the walls of his dreams, a kind of thief to be policing the light.
The hubris in a few ferocious branches, accruing the subtle stances required, refusing visitor glances at the shrine The thorns swallow a rich canopy buried beneath and keep a perilous gift hanging for traveler thigh
Time echoes in hope of lending vestige's light, crying out to see the breadth of the line. To see the tangential nature of the leaf, and know the grief elucidated and reaped for a return on what we sow in the vine
Another garden enclosed. A partial view of the sky. A further longing for truth. Assume a gruesome divide. Aloof and hardened to bone. A carving suited for pine. A starving forest in roost. Abuse is looming inside.
screeching blackness the music is over the veil has fallen I am the needle running in circles spinning its wheels running on empty for hours on end for days ongoing waiting for the hand to tear through the shadows the white noise flip the vinyl world and guide me on track where all I touch is your songs where curtains are wings and my sky is your melody