The I-Scope
Writing I weave my world in fabric time
From words that fleshed bubbled eternity
Something like catharsis pen my rhyme
Without devotion to success or flattery
The bubble is a cage, a transparent glass
The veil that shows and conceals reality
I write until the sound through it will pass
And light forever wears its distinct virginity
And every syllable of her being spells my lines
And at the period she is done, and I extinct
Wave upon wave merged in undilated confines
For Einstein and Hawkings this faith is succint.
Copyright © David Smalling | Year Posted 2012
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment