Promises are made to be kept, though they are wrapped in a cocoon of razor wire.
The words that fall out of your mouth turn into insects, and are instantly
consumed by the reptiles. Everything consumes everything, all God's creatures go
below. It is quite evident that our souls at one time were of a single unit prospering
and thriving. Ripping through the Cosmosphere. Splitting and burning
endlessly. Scattered about, only to be reunited. This magnetic pull I feel is
not of me. This longing I have to be with you is unnameable. I don't fear it. I
don't fight it. I want to embrace it, understand it. the unexplainable is
definitely one of life's more perplexing subtleties.
Categories:
cosmosphere, change,
Form: Concrete
The sense of loss
transcends accounting,
hovering instead as that one gift
itself uncountable, to rank
with heaven's stars as candles
for a cosmosphere that blesses
with its questions, wrenches anguish
from its cursed calm, and dies perpetually
before the face of sins undreamed.
No savior in his mortal frame
might fare eclipse of that, indeed
personify a paradox so terrible
that for the curvature of time
all other entity may fall away
before the might of such pure frailty.
Presumption fails, and it remains
that loss alone is genuine
among the treasures of the mine.
Its power is infinite to wring the heart,
swing back the gate of pride
and open wider still another door
once spurned, a fool's magnificence
called love.
~
Categories:
cosmosphere, visionary,
Form: Free verse