SHARDS OF YOU.
pale needed.
Come lay your feet in the tub of your tears, hindered by
the fare of the wait of tares from the ducks, aqua aqua. Masked by a false
certain air, why Hyde? awkward awkward. The windows of the shops you pass by
sea behind your very oculars, see your very obstacles, obvious. Inner voice?
Toughen up soldier, no shoulders, no shrouding shred doubts douse those with
doses of rouses, wake up as if you have
won.
Come lay your feet
in the tub of your sight's waters, the warmth truly, pedi-soothing,
therapeutic, Losing, one self inside heaving sighs. Recovery, after being hit
by sledges covering yourself… shield, scarred, average seal, expecting doom and
Klum, hard, but a silver lining in every frown.
Come; lay your feet
in the tub of realization. Accept your position, identify your options, set the
wheels in operation. Return to safety, save thee, thine, thou, though, I mean,
it is all a cycle. Siphon confidence, let it be.
Come lay yourself in time, in your own tide, steady raft
hone crafts, home fast, own past present and to come.
Come lay your head in the tub of all things anew, re: birth.
Selah Omega.
No comments:
Post a Comment