Beyond every dream there lies in my mind
Things way past the time, dwelt in sweet subtle supine
Something joyous, something dear, often boisterous, often fear
That fills my pool with a waterfall made of sullen salty tear
Past the darkest of my face lies a fickle bitter taste
Of blood spilled in haste, dripping droplets of gorgeous waste
Losing every bitter, losing every shake, through the very wither, through the very innate
There it flows down its channeled path, Dead Sea Red that never inflates
Farther than the whimsical notion that floats before my eyes
Of mercurial bliss, of sweet family ties
Just a bit pleasant, just a bit meaningful, maybe a little present, maybe a little teeming full
Of tiny pebbles that seem to rebel to let the waves of life take there coarse in the humming ocean's lull
No comments:
Post a Comment