Creation of an image so true,
I see the world imprinted in synopsis.
An image more to reveal another,
One last realization to wash clean.
Melodies of the letters ring loud.
A movement so slow it blurs the light.
Hands meeting sights, no sound born.
Where is the grass among the green sea?
Wondering in an aimless circle.
Waiting to follow incompetent noises.
A meander begins to voice displeasure.
No ending awaits the abrupt ledge.
QWERTY instances halt meaningless entry.
A torrid affair of dream and moment.
Back to a noise field, sight unseen.
Face in hands helps wash stains.
Dastardly deeds compounding textures within.
Visually stunning to view upsetting one's soul.
A patient man no longer crying foul.
One more violence of sin to live.
Tiny ticks of bloodborne influence,
Gradually embracing the abruptness.
Whose need leads to many wants?
The canopy secludes its squatter's involvement.
Plurals of many stop multiplying.
Make one become none and many.
Only the sight of such quells nature.
A gallop of petty evolves no one.
A breath of plumed impurity,
Canvassed amongst a plethora of hair flowing.
Leaking ears drool arrant thoughts.
Vague twitches support banned construct.