Crickets
crashing upon corroding biers
Softly
swaying to coarse lit tears
Fireflies
light the way
On
this premature voyage to immortality
Sanity
and sanctity
Positioned
just so,
Focusing
upon Inherent flaws bred through woe
Of
man and man, of man and beast
Different
tones play upon,
Each
and all, the cords of voice
The
quality in chosen words
The
action becoming of the strangest verbs
Empathy
comes at the oddest stops
Visions
of visions shared once but lost
Yet
crickets chirped
Just
the same
Until,
of course, the winter came
Ending in rhyme, that is never a crime and always makes for a fun time with your chime. Those cricketts do seem to play so sublime, as many wish they'ed suck on a lime. With the fireflies and immortatlity I thought of stars in their prime, those quality chosen words are sometimes worth no more than a dime. Visions of visions was a fun wordplaying climb and now I'll stop before dragging myself through the grime.
ReplyDeleteCool metaphor on our constant state of noise and for-cause. It brings to mind, we've been like this for a long time and still the same kind of seasons of up and downs still come.
ReplyDelete