Inside Outside Inside

What worth am I in all this madness what worth are you in the depths of all this sadness there, see the flight path to elevation inside the feels; inside the fields of darkness spring wells of orbs popping light the half-stride of trying phantoms planting seeds, half-baked poetry running through the veins the golden fields of darkness minutiae sleeping with Morpheus under the velvet blankets of Elysium terra firma robes overly well worn divested now in waking kissing the farewell to be received blessed, annointed in the essence of the uncommon there, the busy minded, the unnaturally gifted - The Poets ... call you, see - the flight path to elevation inside the outside inside - or, called back outside, there you remain, forever fixated on cracking the inside the hoax planted in a dybbuk box unfounded unworthy demon sunken treasure buried forever grounded hear them all, see, inside the common feels, the uncommon Poets call you see, the flight path to elevation reaching inside the outside inside Candide Diderot. ‘24 crosses.