Beware. the war isn’t over till it’s over and someone is bleeding scarlet on marble floor
Yes. the hands of time are ticking, ever so irritable, never reversing. Always tinkering
Look how far i’ve come, embracing the parts that weren’t elegant
Only to strip down the old tinsel and spray on a new paint
I like the deeper end of the ocean, knowing fully I can’t swim
haven’t gone far enough to look behind and see tumbleweed of past transgressions
too shortsighted to see the lighthouse on top a mountain miles away.
Each time my GPS points south, i head norths and then turn west
past the sparrow that sits on a branch of a great oak
…then I notice it after the fourth time around
Like an outdated middle-aged fairytale, it’s not-so- conspicuous riddles intrigues me.
The solution.. that’s as logical as separating conjoined twins.
You’d find me wearing three pullovers underneath the sky on a full moon trying to decipher the language of the skies
Only if you were looking for me
but I know you’re not.
It’s cold up there, a million light years ahead in a deserted vessel
I often dream in codes and patterns
I often think on Celestial being with a scythe in his left hand
that’s not logical, but what is logic anyways?
the sky is falling but everybody’s nose is in their smartphones
Let’s just play musical chairs, hope and sit where we have to
we’d make casual conversations and avoid eye contact with each other
give me sec to powder my nose and wear my best smile
what a perfect harmonious world we live in