Monday, August 22, 2011

The Open Skies

Agape with the bells and whistles of a divine acuity
purity of the breath held free in the chest
it welches
us inches closer
to deaths cleft..

the symphony of equation
in the end,,
what is it thats left..

leaving traces and tracks
lord of our vices
carrying weight on our backs
so heavy and priceless

we couldnt buy the moments
in time we thunk twice
as eyelids blinked
to awkward silences..

open skies as water splatters
bawling your hands
as the enamel chatters

the chills

the prescribed animosity
trying to re invent
the clouds
with a finger pointed
at the sun

burning your doctrines
selling your actions
as self percieved
to lifes traction..

crisis in full motion..
tacklin entanglements
bleeding self notions..


that race..
like masses
of paste

circling the sun
solidifying in the chase..

Agape with the designs
absolving all fates..

humming in the wind
a song changing

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