Tendrils of the fog grasping at the luminous stars highlighting the shade of the twilight.
Here we recite that which has occurred through dawn until dusk, bear no secrets and allow whispers to brush aside as these chains break, fold and take shape.
A form uncertain and once deciphered, may highlight the answers you’ve been seeking across a threshold which is uninspired.
For what do we aspire to if we do not further more, seek an answer to our mystery and a solution to the plague amidst our very core.
For here we contain and here we remain, the darkness and light both parallel and abstract in vain.
To teach an anomaly within a symphony of shifting trigonometry is certainly no easy feat, yet alone this cause will take effect and the rewards you reap will be paramount to that which recede.
For you cannot gain without a sacrifice, thrice and infinitely unknown and warped in our ever wandering shades of perspective, for there is irony in the fact that our spirit is neglected, absence of faith, certainly not, but many points are certainly rejected.
Despite these verses that flow as a singular mental release that seeks peace through understanding the vibrant, vacant sea, spreading out as far as the eye can sea.
Filled with immeasurable wonder and the jewels that feed our inner heart’s desire to follow through and at last plant the seed.
Take it was you will, for it is but a thrill, and that which you will, manifests as you sit still.
For your thoughts ring just as true as the dove flies along the Nile spreading a truth that is forsaken to tongues unwilling to spit the venom of the unsanctioned destitute feud.
For we are alluded to a grand illusion, sitting and rocking back and forth in our own little delusion.
As the clock ticks there is a similar echo venturing forth from the unknown, bestowing the hope in which we may deliver a more understandable tone.
For there is no glory in an ending story, that fades away as the dust climbs a megalith that transcends this vision.
With precision we may exceed the memories that are in fact a part of our own destiny.
For fate is but a riddle that allow one reading to simply giggle.
For there is no sense when you elapse in a precognitive fiddle, demonstrate another pardon, for there is no reason to continue an allegory that wanders.
Here as the Sun swallows the Moon, we falter, then the cycle sets anew, and we falter.
Under a different constellation however, we rise.
Is it the Time? What a rhyme.
Much love, thanks for reading my work. Support me by following the blog and sharing with your media and family/friends. Currently in the midst of putting together my first book; a collection of my short stories, pieces of poetry and personal thoughts. I’ll keep you all updated.
Sending you Light through Love,