Drafts get written
I'm past tense tripping
Dances fringing like linen clothing
In always roaming maybe forever
As if eternity could sprout this mustard seed
I write till I bleed expressing all the passion
The wits and the phantom spirit that feeds
I need I need I need
Maybe I want
Warmth like an palm holding yours in mine
The flow expressive the notes are cheap but the message expensive always so pensive till the seal breaks along with the fences
The blaze makes an entrance and triumphs intensive like lamps and lanterns brought deep in mysterious caverns.
Shit this might be the rapture. Entering my dream state anyways I'm lucid living lavish in a dreamscape. It'll be okay maybe even gracious the quality of human being breaking out the matrix fuck a running aces soul sucking phases! I'm ready for the latest. Maybe not the greatest yet... Get me there. Get me there. Get me there.
I'm insnared and I'm hardly believing that things improve with time and the passing of seasons. Love it or leave it. At least it was scenic. The trees flow through me the grasses grow greener. Till it got wrecked rough and kinda fd up. I guess solar pled was the next test to give up. Proper timing and imoroper aligning the universe speaks but often its signing. Every cloud has its own silver lining. Behind them all the suns shining a river is widening.
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