Being On An Island
He shatters patterns with a
precision unseen
in this dimension
His vision is precise chipping
away at icy
foundations
The cold world he's facing
is a reflection of things
weathered in the past
He looks into the mirror
knowing it's glass
unafraid of its transparency
His perceived heresy is no
mistake for it's rooted
in truth he sees
religiously
The seeds he's sowing
are fastly growing into
trees bearing fruit they
can't escape
Taking the shape of frozen
water for a time
was the only way to
liquidate the lies
This is a currency they can't
shake like change
nor can they hide what's
been bottled up
His Midas touch is both
a gift & a curse
quiet as kept yet told
No matter the harassment
he's endured from the brass
he's golden yet & still
Still are his emotions
like a painting of an ocean
with hidden depths
What lies beneath has crept
to the surface for
all to see
A sea so deep its entirety
can't be seen with
naked eyes
He stands alone like
the letter I but is surrounded
by waves of energy
this land can't deny
He averts his gaze knowing
the power of eyes
can bury heads in the
sand
You can only consume
what you're being
fed so read the signs
that lie ahead if you
can
Copyright © Jasen Ridley | Year Posted 2025
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