I’ve lost my way. I’ve been travelling through incandescent circles. I’ve shamed myself and my family. Weakness has served me well; serving alms to broken bones, lathering inspiration upon a withered soul. But weakness has its own agenda. Weakness feeds on blood. Weakness is an emotional vampire. The more we strive, the more bitter its taste is to touch.
I cannot advocate a complete reprieve. Weakness has certain beneficial qualities. When harnessed through frequent filtration methods, flaws can be the greatest stream of knowledge. Knowing where you went astray, which hour, which day, allows your eyes to repeat your delivery, subconsciously.
Painting, repainting, a scene, dramatically, fundamentally, gray and blue unite. Finally a fringe exists, where the frayed gather to exchange particles of information, grits and gravy, beef and bisque. I shall not recommend any such consumption. I will only warn you of the risk to come. Travelling from east to west, can wear ruts into your tongue. Particulates of postulation will disappear with invigoration. And then….
Open your heart to the other side,Let the wrong moves take you,
Understand completely,What ills you’ve spewed,
What shackles there remains to break,Ignite your passion in yourself,
Be all you ever dreamed of being,Take control, grab the reigns and whisk the ills away,
All solitary are the retributive attitudes,Mustered in fog and fennel,
Dripping edges from silvered spheres,Announcing the passage,
A warning you must adhere,In order to take you to this special place,
This universe under construction,Colored differently each and every day