Pander to the broken once more shall you see, the changes made, Above the mighty Stereo Surrendering, only to ignite streams to pour From the fountain of the Infinite Well. Oh! allow such splendor to splash upon a page Aplomb!
rapture by the daily musical affairs of life in strides of flashes and bittersweet escapades with females that left in trials of bruises and bashes of the ego and the mind. I’m trying to capture the brilliance that is the
I felt God within me. The wave spread through my mind, There are roses growing, From the fertile inner soils, Wisdom I seek I seem to find, Appearing before me like a transitory gift I need only extend my hand,
It’s pretty- Mysterious- To me, Can you not see it? Truly- It almost hurts- Terribly- I’ve fallen for it, yeah, quite predictably, Quite hard, I guess I know, quite selfishly, as well. But the flowers can never never come too
sensations sense the limited bound by the apertures that read time my conditioned mind interprets the words that come through in streams, as lines of information a matrix of data, through the windows of the sensual eyes, my faded account
This poem hates you. This poem thinks you’re dirt. What does it look like down there? What does the ground taste like? This poem is tough. This poem is hard. This poem is hate. How does that make you feel?
Energy is power, power is energy, But passion can be exhausting. Everytime I lie, I’m telling the truth. It is not a mountain that lies before me but a range How can God be forgiving if ‘e doesn’t judge? ‘e
Sadness mostly breaks upon the horizon it slips into its coma unless you awaken it with a light you carry it like a dead weight a burden inside you. push it all you might but sadness comes again. Let me
I play by ear, the concord appears The phoenix labours like a tired flame, Wings inward, My ashes have risen to make an onerous claim; In a nutshell, By the ocean, In a clamshell, The pearl sparkles; Should I Be