poem 2 of 365

Silent in boundless music that diagrammatically plays along with the beating of the soundless drums that move mounties of red and delves into icy white shards that move mounties of flesh. Through moving soup reverberating with a humdrum of fluff and ignorance reproducing endless misalliance creation in a world of nonsensical creation to believe in a being so large astronomically deluded into shudders and twisted gnarling deaths of purges long wondered in a factual line of this, then could you believe in the nothing of everything

Pride run by mice in tiny eyes that believe all is the end and never a pass along that wondering though lands make you lost. To see with only one view a world built on nothing more than one of many that end with the understanding of all. For we few monsters made of light and dark breath down and believe up. To create a sense of progress we can not be in a land of the flat where no ladder can stand tall on its own.

Crack the glass delve into the fissures track down the empty ghosts that haunt and bring divide, sealing the one as a whole. individual collective that passes down hexagonal spirals your choice is free your consequence bound through one way, thunder stands down open paths to bring choice to your door.

Stay still say no more, be still, dead on the step minds that need no introduction weathering paths of grass that have no soil that got neglected by belief in progress of following and believe in worlds that no one more powerful is the one that stays still to breathe and accept that no choice will stray away from death but leave behind a seed of grass that will blend a carpet of movement that brakes down the city walls of metal and stone that will walk over all land in a dance of wind rain and the giggles of the truly blessed by the world given free with no need of control that is and will be in its self a gazer at stars on distant sky’s that twirl on energy.

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