Tuesday, April 30, 2013

Now, Born Scared

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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