Copius Abandon

Sunrise, sunset in adjacent systems blends behind a calm waterfall wake, the hollow unknown man only minds his altruistic poems of prism alchemy--cleverly arranging perfect crystal aurora petals against a color coded ancient star Genesis, forming opulent halos of Zen emptiness processions--guiding bright shiny angel wings, keys to soaring paragons of pellucid, avid, unborn, illusory gray imaginations, like the savvy, siren Mermaids of Ursa Minora--giving way to all en-viable spirits on the 4 winds of sagacity as the 4 Horsemen on shadowy compunction ride, reign free unchecked, under looming celestial cloud layer realms. Sitting on the high hills of home feverishly flanked near open valleys of conscious convergences, he softly speaks to a Promethean blank bliss, encountering morning light memories, open temporal templates offering glowing, discarnate, latent, ascetic desires of a lasting, formless, empty existence.