"invigorates" poems
she asks at last,
is this one for me
“of course it is,
was waiting for visualizing
the Oh,
when I heard
you stumbled into it”
she then confesses,
she has
a “tendency to stumble”
without an explanation
her answer is in her manner subtle,
that instantly invigorates,
so decidedly her style,
her answer,
raising more questions,
defeating the illusion of
anybody masculine overconfidence of the challenger
she puts the ”oy” in coy,
deflating my upper-handed attitude,
with an answer tantalizing and hinting,
so simple, it explains everything
and nothing
it seems that when she stumbles,
it’s me that actually,
“all fall down”
ah woman,
when you best me,
it brings forth the best
and adds an
“a”
in this poetic beast,
two play fighting cubs nipping
each other. the in us gaming
in this wordplay game,
so exciting,
her subtle reasoning teasing
results in a man as
a happy sore loser*
Oct 3, 2018
Oct 3, 2018 at 5:16 PM UTC
Would you think me insane
If I were to tell you that you have set me free
That knowing you has taught me
About who I am meant to be?
Something I thought long since dead
Deep inside myself
Was awakened when you looked at me
Like there was no one else
A renewed sense of who I am
Invigorates the soul
I now believe in fairy tales
And love I do extol
It is not a passing breeze of caring
More like a hurricane-force wind
That knocks you over and lifts you up
Like you're flying from within
Two hearts connected silently
Across a million miles
Melancholy fades away
With just the memory of a smile
How can it be that circumstance
Deals such a cruel, cruel hand
To temper fated torture
Almost too much to withstand
For in a love so consuming
That it is laden in every breath
Forced to live so separately
Is a torment worse than death
For at least in death can be found Heaven
Or if we're guilty, can be found Hell
But even hell, if I am with you,
Can be called Heaven very well
Jul 14, 2011
Jul 14, 2011 at 9:39 AM UTC
There is a story to tell.
I met a person.
There is much to tell.
Choked up emotions.
The person listens.
Reads my stories too.
Not only the intro,
but the whole thing through.
Tells me I am great,
when I know the truth.
This has to be fate.
Because it soothes.
Positive and,
Appreciates.
Hard work, effort.
Invigorates.
The person fills,
me with words.
When I am lost,
and I am slurred.
Hair so curly,
Maybe straight.
Not sure, did
not speculate.
Eyes brown,
maybe blue.
Come to think of it,
it is you.
Oct 31, 2017
Oct 31, 2017 at 12:20 PM UTC
‘Your voice,
I feel sedated whenever I hear
its dark caress
Yet it invigorates me enough
for it to be my work song
You took me from Eden
to the church that is
you
I entered its ancient confines-
to meet another you,
someone new
and Wilson you said:
*“Be my Jackie,
let’s steal a child from creation
for I don’t want to be alone
like real people do
who run into the woods somewhere ne'er to return to humanity"*
I wallowed in the heat of your
Auburn cathedral
and got seared by the heat of your *****
and I hear your voice
as sweet
as cherry wine
And as I hear the trickling of fire
I realized that it is the arsonist’s lullaby.‘
Dec 3, 2015
Dec 3, 2015 at 2:04 AM UTC
What drives a man to achieve his goals? Motivation of course!
The enthusiastic mindset that if you work hard, you'll achieve.
The unhindered perspective that compels you to think about the end goal and ignore the hardships that attempt to impede your progress towards greatness.
The idea that putting your best foot forward will gain the admiration of a metaphorical Hermes who will then grant you his winged sandals to propel you above the rest of your peers and out of your unsatisfactory situation.
What drives a man to succeed in his ventures? Motivation of course!
A burst of energy that says "I can do it if I believe I can." despite limitations on your strength or your intelligence or your character.
An aura that surrounds you and invigorates your humors, enticing your senses as well as giving you a mask that hides your unsure demeanor.
It's a revelation, that motivation, which enlightens the soul and frees the body from the chains that marked the end of it's abilities.
What drives a man to accomplish milestones for himself? Perhaps it manifests itself in something other than motivation.
It could be the desire to find acceptance, to be wanted, to get that simple thumbs up that sends a message that needs not be spoken. "You did well."
Possibly it would be the wish, the simple wish that a man will have done something worth remembering in the brief existence that he has, something he can look back on and think to himself, "I didn't do half-bad on that, did I?"
Teetering on the self-existential reflecting concepts, it could just be that man wishes to find fulfillment by filling his daily activities with anything. And that the greater the activity, the laborious hours put into completion, here man finds solace in putting meaning into his day to day living. Thus we find that goals are merely tick marks, road signs on the long drive from life's start to inevitable death.
This, this is all motivation. Anything that places reins over a man's mind and hits the spur against his brain, in hopes that this will help him move forward and do what he believes is necessary to do.
Motivation is to place one's self in this self-deprecating position as to be a slave to ambition in order to be satisfied with one's life. And to think that motivation is a blessing that leads to self-improvement.
Motivation is truly the mind's greatest illusion.
Jul 29, 2014
Jul 29, 2014 at 10:11 PM UTC
Weird.
Funny.
Stupid.
Crazy.
The words attached to you by other people.
And the saddest thing is that you believe them
And you lower yourself
And hate yourself
To entertain the masses.
Quiet.
Thoughtful.
Witty.
Loving.
That is who you are to me.
And as you rest your weary head
While we hide away from sight,
You whisper calm intellect
That make my thoughts just stop.
Awkward.
Cute.
Nervous.
Bubbly.
Some of what I feel
When I think of you.
And it's like a beautiful electricity
One that invigorates and illuminates my soul,
And in that moment I love you.
Uncomfortable.
Strained.
Jolting.
Cold.
It's not what we should be.
But while you hide away
My favourite facets of your glittering self,
That will be what you receive from me.
Your reflection.
Oct 17, 2013
Oct 17, 2013 at 9:41 AM UTC
I’m a shy yet outgoing introvert.
When it comes to getting attention, I will divert
I love to give love and try not to hurt
I sometimes feel **** and will attempt to flirt
When you talk religion and spirituality,
please keep all of those labels away from me
Because I will whisper into the wind and through the trees
as God’s omnipresence is surrounding me
Being in nature invigorates and inspires me
Viewing wildlife and feeling the cool country breeze
The happy return of the flowers and the bees
Love new beginnings and feeling free
Adventure and travel runs through my veins
By land, sky, and sea, I love all terrains
Trying new things and experimenting keeps me sane
Listening to all genres of music feeds my brain
Bronx born and Detroit raised, I thrive on diversity
Learning about culture, the arts, and our history
are my life’s passions and bring inner harmony
Oh well, that is enough about me . . .
Mar 23, 2019
Mar 23, 2019 at 1:23 PM UTC
Caramel lips, with a body bathed in whipped cream and melted chocolate. With a taste that invigorates every last sansation within.
my eyes are hypnotised as she softly whispers in my ears to dine and delight. Leading me to temples of pleasure.
Her fingers as soft as feathers of golden eagles.
I'm riddled as to why I feel so feeble.
she has mastered the art of knismesis while I am still an apprentince.
temptation consumes me whole, while she moans I indulge in her as the night slowly... grows
Jan 26, 2015
Jan 26, 2015 at 6:29 AM UTC
there remains a stirring pang
churning around within
a soothing ache invigorates
an insatiable, yet suppressed ,
untamed appetite
a gnawing hunger craving
never curbed ,
abiding a leaching aloneness
that piercingly tingles inwardly
veritably suppressed fever
burns out of control
like a tameless wildfire ;
flames fanned
by the feral forces of nature
reviving
an intimately passionate
verve
~
© wild is the wind
Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 11:30 AM UTC
4am. Late night 7eleven run. Hat, coat, scarf, out the door. As soon as I exit the building the cold invigorates me, I sip on the night air and breath out the steam of life. I walk slow and steady despite the drink in me, mastered my balance long ago. No one and nothing is awake but me and the stars. And I relish in the world's absence. As I walk, the street lights reveal it's snowing, little gingerly particles flutter toward me like a dusty lamp shade when disturbed. Memories flood back to me, times when I was in love and every snowflake that dropped before me seemed to bring life anew. I stare longingly at the sky with an appreciation that could never be described with mortal words. Only that fleeting gaze that stays with you forever if it is set upon you, etching itself in your heart.
Then I walked home…Back to earth.
Dec 20, 2013
Dec 20, 2013 at 7:25 AM UTC
Whispers of wind
Tickle the grass
That tickles my toes
That crunch the leaves
That disturbs the peaceful air.
The hum of crickets
Then reaches my ears
Along with the musical
Chirping of birds
To bring this untouched
Wonder to life
And as full of energy
As of the squirrels that jump around.
The smell that is sweet
And fresh
And rejuvenating
Invigorates me
As I watch in awe
As the sun’s glistening rays
Caress the trees
That stand firm and bold
And strike the leaves
That are intricately placed.
This kingdom of peace
Is then slowly disturbed
As the sun begins to set
When the bugs are free
To come out and play
And that was bad news
For me.
Like silent thieves
They came to me
To steal that which
Flows through my veins.
But that spot
That makes me itch
Is evidence
Of their evil deed.
But the day is not
Ruined
Nor the serenity
Forgotten
As I leave this spot
And wait for the day
When I am fortunate
Enough
To enjoy the beauty
Of this nature scene
Once more.
Feb 27, 2011
Feb 27, 2011 at 7:00 AM UTC
My muse, my muse,
She’s here right now
She just took a shower and her hair is still wet.
She's wearing a bathrobe, she walks up to the bed and sits
When she crosses one leg over the other I catch a flash of her thighs
Inviting thighs, long legs
She has pretty feet
And pretty ankles,
I always look at feet.
She has delicate wrists
She has long thumbs, here she is
Now leafing through a magazine
With those long thumbs,
Long fingernails.
Her shoes are on the floor, shoes that she wore last night
They've fallen over on the carpet,
My eyes find my way back to her
She seems to have found something interesting in the magazine
Here she is, concentrated on it, her back is straight
In this light, this natural light,
Without make up,
She looks impossibly lovely,
Renoir would paint her.
I get out of bed and walk into the shower.
There’s something strangely intimate
About taking a shower in a girl’s bathroom,
Shampoo bottles and hair conditioners all around me
Water cascading down my bare chest
Recollecting and replaying scenes from the night before:
Unbuttoning her jeans, pulling them off
Seeing her Hello Kitty underwear
And laughing, and thinking it was cute
And saying, umm… so how old are you again?
Humour always works, yes, humour always works.
I love ********** this girl.
It seems as though I'm always ********** her.
At night in the living room, on the sofa
Unfastening her stockings and slowly rolling them off,
Next her skirt, then her underwear…
Sweet parting flesh
I begin thinking of how it’ll be, how it’ll go down
She's always in something classy,
But man, it seems as though I'm always ********** her.
Sometimes I strip everything off her body,
But I ask her to leave her earrings and heels on; they confirm her nakedness
Hoop earrings
Red lipstick
Red heels
I lie in the middle of the bed, lights are dim, she climbs onto the bed
Curls up between my legs, begins by kissing on my stomach...
Great lovers lie in hell, the poet says.
Great lovers lie in hell.
I'm falling asleep afterwards, but not her
*** invigorates me,* she says, tying her hair in a ponytail
This girl, she has the effect of lighting a matchstick in the dark.
She lays beside me and begins to read Jeanette Winterson
And just before I succumb to a deep slumber I remember something and tell her,
Baby, baby, baby, your Morse code interferes with my heartbeat.
Nov 3, 2013
Nov 3, 2013 at 4:45 PM UTC
The agony of pain
I tolerate as of now
Forking deeply into my back
This sharpen spear which I cannot see
Has to be removed by sterile hands of comfort
As I lay twisting and turning
While this impregnable object claims me
As victor
Voicing another cry
To attend my howling call
Now
I am speechless
As distress captures me
How can suffering invigorates souls?
Nov 14, 2009
Nov 14, 2009 at 1:10 AM UTC
I am a mouse to her,
To play with, to toy upon my
Never ending running wheel.
Will I get a time when I can just
Breath,
Relax,
Sleep
An endless moment,
I am a puppet she likes to snip at the
Strings
Life
Death
Doesn't faze her, the chase is what
Invigorates her, she has touched inside
Me, her talons gorge within taking a
Particle,
Essence,
Pieces
Of my soul and I watch and she drinks me,
I wish to starve her, to release my pain.
But she is the huntress of lost souls
This is her playground, and I am just
A rat in a maze,
That when tiresome, she will consume
That which she drinks greedily when it our next time to meet.
Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 6:35 PM UTC
just like the midnight lark I rise each midnightto listen in delight to the sound that I have grown to love.
for her words have grown on me intertwined inside my memories.
every night I need her voice to set the moment right.
just like the lark I am a servant of the sky bound toroam across my dreams.Her song intones me.
I am stronger than the leaves.
in a stiff summer breeze.
sweet harmony be my guide and lead me to the other side.my passage has been paid by the dreams before I’ve laid.but do not be affright, I dreamt of you tonight.
so sing me lullabies from you perch up in the skyand I’ll dream a dream so true, and I’ll only dream of you.that I’ll wake amidst the nightwondering why you’re not by my side.then I’ll heave a heavy sigh as my ears have been trained to find,your fervent song that forever keeps me hanging onto the last few precious moments, of a night that creeps along.so, sing me a song o’ black ruby of the night.draw your inspiration amongst the starlit night.for dreams do come true as dreamers often pray,but on an on another day. good bird I do praythat God will bless your wings, for without your holy sound my life would come unwound. o’ poet of the treesyour verse sedates my mind to a gentle ease.in mediation ‘tis true that all I hear is you.o’ poet of the skies and singer of lullabies,
I dream dreams so true of me and of you- . allow me to be frankof hiker of the leaves, and drifter of the trees,may you play for mea song so seldom sung to the silver sliver stuck above.I’ve fashioned a dream today of which I wish to playbut I have no melody to accompany my fantasy.so songbird of the night, sing me a song so rightand let your symphony surprise the stillness of the night. in these words I trust you’ll forever know my loveas strong as the rushing tide pulled from the silver disc above.black ruby of the night like a thief you stole my heart,ransom off my being but keep my soul intact, this is all I ask.first sound I fell in love with your evanescence glowthat radiates to me as roses attract bees.your bittersweet melody invigorates my being.wind comes to tear the leaves from ceiling treesbut the roots hold fast and the leaves survive and my soul has crossed the tide.to dream a dream so true as dreamers often liein bunks made of trees to slumber through the tide. in your song I am free to think,I am firm in my beliefs,I am stronger than the leaves.2005-
Feb 21, 2010
Feb 21, 2010 at 9:41 AM UTC
The Scene and Sounds Invite
The mystery did Venus descend to a nightly wood invest her uncommonness upon the maiden fair she stood deathly still the moonlight
Turned her skin to porcelain white the black hooded cloak gave her the airy feel of disembodiment and then she moved it wasn’t steps
But a floating fluid motion across the glen timeless shadows she stirred into the mist she disappeared I will go back in this dream
For ever how long it takes till her hand I may take and with loves embolden voice I shall speak so tenderly the night air so brooding and
Heavy will easily bear its weight in the cradle of wonder she brought powers of the long ago chants amidst hoary frost the dark forest
Knows the call of sounds so deep only the deadly silence brings reverberation from a mere whisper a gasp would be the equivalent to
Thunder I seek not mortal treasure but loves essence never will it divide and scatter as dispersed light tinged in every single living
Expression how the heart swells as it dwells on delicacies forbidden to the casual visitor but come with a burning hunger for love
You will not know disappointment romance is in the tenderest shoot the tendril vine trembles with the slightest breeze it’s the portent
Of a mighty wind the heart and locks of a warrior has come into view love will wind and turn on its own path it will amaze lovers to no
End come and know private and secret dreams its breath blows in from coastal winds invigorates all before its march a song you will
Sing among all that is wild you are invited to play among Shakespearian hills and fields know uncommon heights carry new found
Knowledge over boundless seas to lands stooped in backward ways you will be their guide the crude and mundane you will over rule
With one taste of your freedom you will give them the path if taken will make them kings and builders of kingdoms
Aug 29, 2012
Aug 29, 2012 at 2:23 PM UTC
Petals
Under all skies you need an umbrella made from perennial flowers that can block cruel rays and in
Stormy weather they become a colorful shield arrayed as a ghost army standing on a hill the colors
Of their banners are richly flowing they reach out over the former battle field in the valley a solemnity
Is carried to lofty heights revering the fallen honoring those who stand and await the next call to
Sacrifice this is your awareness under your slight canopy of blushing colors blues at the center are deep
And rich that suggest deep springs as you retrieve this bucket and it sloshes out over the side the closer
It gets to the surface the blue lightens to sky blue at the tips wondrous calm it delivers with a pulsating
Surging that invigorates the whole being of a sojourner without map and compass you tread to the
Beyond where you will find designs and integrity that is sweeping and bold a bag of tricks left by
Mother Nature when she was the lone interior decorator of earth’s natural places she received her
Genius from the same one that gave flowers their fragrance everything holds sun light delicately some is
Lighting others is for splitting light into light and shadow creating just the right effect a soothe that is
As big as the earth’s circumference with the tiniest touches the blooming draws the burnished brown
Sand from desert stores to the sheer grey granite mountain’s alluring views across vistas to the blue
Great waters shores an earthy child an her mother has just strolled through the comforts of your mind
And soul just a slight gust of wind to stir you to wonder about the blessing that are all around even in
The mix of life’s woes you are told you are loved and have a future flowers rain clouds sunshine they
Are just part of a promise largely told so you can walk with lions bold and shake off the tremble and
strain that sometimes arise out of a fallen world
Apr 19, 2012
Apr 19, 2012 at 4:16 PM UTC
Monday night
Because weekdays make a woman ache
after a heart break
Strawberry sugar sugar
Caress me in all the warm and wet ways
(papillae)
viscously ****** strands
Broad shoulders Breathtaking Collar
Bones
Is what I’ll pick with you tomorrow
Because atleast a margarita hits the spot every time
Toss
mmmh
Darling don’t stop
Toss
Sticky pulp invigorates
Rejuvenates my taste buds
Fills my hunger
moan louder, ******* stranger
Toss
Deeper and Deeper into the papaya womb
Don’t stop! Don’t stop!
The mango the endocarp
Slurp it till it runs dry
Toss
Lap it up boy. We’re both famished
But only you know I’m the fruit piece
You’ll toss
Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 12:39 PM UTC
Maybe "Singing in the Rain" was really first doing laundry in the rain
Easter downpour, as solid as any I remember in Brooklyn, sans lightening
Big droplets, teaspoon size, coming down in successive sheets
like a hall of mirrors or glistening water, reflected further and further through
the misty air, and it's not cold, either, not muggy like Brooklyn
the air doesn't stick to your skin, cling to your body and line your nose
but the ***** water from the industrial sky still splashes on concrete
scattered small boiling mist of filth, oil, the mess of civilization,
the foaming "hidden creek" froths out from a concrete pipe behind this place
running underneath the parking lot, paved over like the river underneath 125th street in NYC
And I haul out my laundry, dragging it first across the ***** carpeting, then down the concrete
stairs, past remains of dust and play and gum turned black
until I reach the empty laundry room because who in their right mind would
do laundry on Easter in the middle of the downpour?
And I am dressed for it in a tank top and short skirt and the ***** rain hits my skin,
invigorates me, and I rush through it, smiling, listening to the remains of the creek
a shower of ***** water from a freshly polluted sky and I know no Broadway
dance moves and there are not street lights to cling to, only the inner ecstasy of
violating convention, droplets of water all over my chest, legs, being and I wash my hands
in icy rainwater flowing over someone's balcony like a refreshing waterfall
Mar 31, 2013
Mar 31, 2013 at 8:12 PM UTC
And I sing the song carried on the breeze...before I fall to my knees and exclaim, that I dont feel the same, after the rain...it invigorates me to breath that air, to fill my lungs with the purity of the sea and the fury of the wind...
And I Fall to my Knees and Cry Out, let my spirit sore across the plains so that I might see with eyes of eagles. Let my heart be filled to the capacity of over flowing, so that I might love like no other before me. Let my mind be filled with the knowledge of my generation and those before me, so that I might share it with the world, to learn a better understanding of that world.
And I Stand arms Open Wide to receive the Love Ive felt all this time from every prayer that has come my way. I cast my eyes to the heavens and pray they not be burned out from the purity that it brings.
So let me share with you, this invigoration anew that you might feel inside of you, this something in me new.
And I Feel on My Skin the Breeze blowing by and the life that it brings to the skin it stings. I feel the electricity flowing deep within me to be let out by her who can handle me, that fury deep inside from which I can not hide. So let me see in you, what change you bring to me, so together we share a love for all to see.
And I Have found that strength abound to pick me up from ***** ground, brush me off and onward walk to mountain top, to mountain top. A giant among the people, surveying all before my feet with a fervor few can meat. I say to you from where I stand, the world is rather grand. So take your place among the thorns and fall in to the normalcy, as for me I will continue to find what make her unique among the roses.
Nov 14, 2010
Nov 14, 2010 at 11:11 AM UTC
The mystery did Venus descend to a nightly wood invest her uncommonness upon the maiden fair she stood deathly still the moonlight
Turned her skin to porcelain white the black hooded cloak gave her the airy feel of disembodiment and then she moved it wasn’t steps
But a floating fluid motion across the glen timeless shadows she stirred into the mist she disappeared I will go back in this dream
For ever how long it takes till her hand I may take and with loves embolden voice I shall speak so tenderly the night air so brooding and
Heavy will easily bear its weight in the cradle of wonder she brought powers of the long ago chants amidst hoary frost the dark forest
Knows the call of sounds so deep only the deadly silence brings reverberation from a mere whisper a gasp would be the equivalent to
Thunder I seek not mortal treasure but loves essence never will it divide and scatter as dispersed light tinged in every single living
Expression how the heart swells as it dwells on delicacies forbidden to the casual visitor but come with a burning hunger for love
You will not know disappointment romance is in the tenderest shoot the tendril vine trembles with the slightest breeze it’s the portent
Of a mighty wind the heart and locks of a warrior has come into view love will wind and turn on its own path it will amaze lovers to no
End come and know private and secret dreams its breath blows in from coastal winds invigorates all before its march a song you will
Sing among all that is wild you are invited to play among Shakespearian hills and fields know uncommon heights carry new found
Knowledge over boundless seas to lands stooped in backward ways you will be their guide the crude and mundane you will over rule
With one taste of your freedom you will give them the path if taken will make them kings and builders of kingdoms
Face bookers try to ignore this
Dec 20, 2012
Dec 20, 2012 at 12:36 AM UTC
That **** warm feeling with her
can take you by surprise,
her aura invigorates,
it's an immediate rush.
I imagine her
lying next to me,
lying in full naked-splendor,
her sensual eyes locked on mine
& a coy smile biting her lower lip.
With quickened breathing,
I shake with anticipation
just to kiss her delicate mouth.
I inhale her kisses & immediately
a stirring below speeds up our intimacies.
My mouth travels over her luscious body,
kissing & nibbling, tasting her skin,
inhaling her flowery fragrances
all the way own to nest my face
on top of her bouquet.
Her taste is primordial,
so raw & delicious.
I love to watch her reactions
as I delicately sift her swollen folds
with my wanton hard-tongue,
Her puffed peaks stand up straight
as she floods in waves.
My moving fingers
spread her beauty
to reveal her excitement,
juicy-love covers my face.
She demands the very best
& I deliver it to her.
Methodical & deep,
she keeps the rythym steady,
grinding herself against me
to take all of me.
And when we reach our crescendo,
she whispers my name
as she milks each spasm.
There is nothing on Earth,
no any words that exist
in any language,
to describe
these loving imaginations,
but at least I tried.
Jan 31, 2014
Jan 31, 2014 at 10:17 PM UTC
I don't know what warms my face,
And invigorates me more.
What makes me glad to wake up,
And crawling out of bed, to feed Alice,
And our other animals.
Is it, your kiss, your smile, your warm embrace,
Or this hot first cup of the morning...
I'd say its a four way tie...
Although, while I do like my coffee,
I love you!
Sep 15, 2012
Sep 15, 2012 at 7:58 AM UTC
The DJ nudges the track
The floor writhes with deafening silence
Headphones buzz in unison
Dancers gyrate in heated silence
Electronic feedback connects the mass
Colours bend with the vibe
Knees bow with increasing tempo
Eyes turn on spinal spin
Heads wane in the rollercoaster flow
The finger leaves the vinyl and points to his god
A raft of hands chases their Apollo fame
The floor fades as feet peddle in transience
'Check this out'
Expectant eyes open
A new path opens
Skies become whirling dervishes
Amorphous lands float by
Seas part to their spine
Rain does not pour
It invigorates
Cool is the rhythm
Shoulders hop and shake
Steam warms the soul
Sun evaporates and replenishes
‘The final track’
Adrenaline like a lightning strike
Un-bearing on mountain edge
Feet attracted to the ground
Legs now heavy
Head now full
Dazed
Headphones abandoned like a defeated army
The weary lovers of music stumble into the night airs
Oct 24, 2020
Oct 24, 2020 at 1:42 PM UTC