A ripple.
Ethnocentric to its
electricity.
A circuit
running endless loops
through its vicinity
in the city.
A secret hinders,
as its echoes emanate.
From the soul,
a weight lightens
onto my glistening
remarks...
And I keep
reminding, myself?
2 times
too tired
to keep brooding,
and rooted,
to a rhythm that
encapsulates
disdain,
made into
stone tablets
to pursue.
An already
ancestral
revenue...
As I walk, lone,
on an endless
avenue,
faces turn to spirals,
and the spirals
become caves.
Concave.
From far away:
the sources,
a light from their eyes, paint
familiar settings of unsettling
roars and shades,
slashes...
Now they show themselves
as portals.
Wounds to heal,
but naught close
the encounter.
I've been encountering
simple facets
that make sure...
Someone's still there
to find the light switch.
After,
the thunder made
its deafening
madness.
I will widen
the threshold
to hold unto
my timeless
sense of wonder-
-to avoid
the realization of
unpleasant rationality.
To paint who's and what's
to conquer...
Reality should not be,
a safe bet
to gander...
At
the same time
I
set my boundaries
to guide you...
Now fragile
event news,
you're past
revenues,
now turned
to mulch to grow
the Life I dream
and that will it be.
It will.
As I see it
fit.
You may cry
and you may wander;
but nevertheless of options,
left for you to gamble.
You can't forget.
This Reality.
Is for me to ramble.
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