Children enter this realm,
Without fear—
Everything is
glorious,
Each sensation is an
unknown birthright,
Terror comes not into
view
Until a blackened soul
pries loose
The fiery chasms of
decay—
It is from this point
forward—
That blissfulness is
purged from vocabulary,
Where delight is
overwrought by newfound
Vestibules endlessly
overflowing with distraught and unnatural echoes of betrayal—
Never again are we
able to willingly return to the serenity found within the baptismal pond—Where
those early ripples become only the faintest of fleeting memories, an endless
array of moistened kisses—ever eagerly willing affection upon the lost innocence
welled inside—where tender passions dotingly caress the rapturous currents of a
deeply sentimental stream—
A revolution spins obtuse
in orbit, unto a forgiveness we never learned to forget, a belief swimming
freely, beneath the layers of a skewed reality, where possibility’s yet to
abandon us—
The deeper one goes,
the light fails to show, darkening and darkening…
It is here, where
sharks circle our intensely personal and primitive of dreams.
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