I don’t know what I want, Whether it’s surface dwelling alone at the swamp Or an oak in a marsh, soul-searching proverbial want. We’re more or less spawns of monsters nobody needs, You were my star-spangled banner, and I was taking a knee. Subterranean breeze, vitamin pond, still smell your perfume, Every once in aContinue reading “I Know What I Need: The Quest for Fulfillment Amidst the Turbulent Rapids of Existence, Where Inner Desires Clash with External Realities”
Tag Archives: son
Fötter Day Reverie: Suburban Breeze and Whispered Dreams
You can hear the suburban chime, zirconia vertebrae, pearly white spine. Glass thrown in stone houses, a regular suburban night, whirring, rewinding. Chronicled childhood in olive drab paint, monocle glass. Wormwood and bottles of Shawshank dissolute solitude. A wanderer who wallows in the maze en route, delaying for tomorrow, never promised today. A virgin diary,Continue reading “Fötter Day Reverie: Suburban Breeze and Whispered Dreams”
Satin and Snapdragons: A Poetic Tapestry
Puncturing flows of buttery colors, exposed in Post and pre-nuptial showmanship. Function control, Amusing instrumental, effusive ode to hold this angel to a centerpiece. Basil, with cloves, of energy that exposed a masterful synergy, A weeded rustled drone that tumbled a quiet depiction of the color blue on a petal, Succulent. Moss grows on myContinue reading “Satin and Snapdragons: A Poetic Tapestry”
Guillotine Lust: Secrets and Desires
Particle physics; radiation courses through every speck and grain, But that didn’t mean infecting the inflections as per your hypothetical claim. Bite the bullet, swallow the pistol; it shoots, Harboring a hollow feeling, sipping Miller to boot. Coil-gripped Corona, drowning out social persona, We’re evolving into moths, wallowing toward the Murky gray skies. Yeah, theContinue reading “Guillotine Lust: Secrets and Desires”
Empyrean Cosmos: Inner Reflections
Empyrean cosmos. This feeling I swallow; it’s real. It’s hollow, but it’s there. I know it. It’s growing, a hole full of sorrow; it’s weird. Some sort of eerie control. It has sculpted out a grave in my heart, it’s six feet into my soul. A clay soldier statue that’s woven and wound up byContinue reading “Empyrean Cosmos: Inner Reflections”