Oblong nights and decantessant days.
Nothing seems repressant.
Singing down while windows blare
The spirit round the body snakes
The canister it shakes, a calm depressant
Single figure, trichromatic essence
Giving in to flashlights glare.
Steps precipitous, tracks too near
Masks fastened tightly, train light near
Rush air, walk long, wind go, gone there.
Interest peakes, creativity wilted,
Poetry reduced to post-oblescent blab.
Listen to the story once told by me
Beat the drum and let the smoke grow dark
Burning floating by your ears
Meadowlark, come near my fellowship.
Drink the nectar of my cantaloupe eyes.
Bleep-bloop. The machine speaks ready
Malfunction, woop, there is no time till its done.
I wish this stayed good like before
Everything is better before.
Nicer and on topic, not tangential
God brings forth in man,
What is to be seekd.
The mighty conceit
Fades to obsolescence
Flies down from the clouds
The mandrills tendrils reach
Toward the fiery bolts
As the french horns sound
In romantic divine revelry
The heart beats and the eyes water
For the image in which we were created.
Love is fear. Fire in the hearts of many,
White smoke plumes from the aorta
and Benevolence flows through the streaming spirit.