The way I see it
I sit cross leged and blind folded with my palms outstretched forward
up from the ground slowly dust twirls,forms and morphs...encasing this earthly body in a tornado
treking tirelessly threw neverending canyons and upwar tunnels
the spark from my pen is erased by further notes
and I quote:
"this is the bread of my soul."
my milk are these bones,
hollow and carrying scrolls
reminding my present self of past triumph and future woes
I could tell you the exact momnt where my divided persona is one
but to guess is to love
and shes looking for somthing
I Have a long...
ways to go.
Im cultivating hope in this green house of a home
resting somewhere inbetween these mechanical comforts
some men kill for.