Within the wiles of paint of life staining reasons sustained
a casualty in sane movements of my pain
I blame the early essence of shameful disdain
thus came, poetry, a moniker of this plane...
I like to rhyme words, such a scattered preserve
of tasteful, superb, ambiance that it serves
feeding my curve in letters I nerve
beckoning attachment to the turn of the verbs....
I never fell in failing to prevail
to sit amongst the greatest of minds in mental
this sentient view of mine, then dispelled
to the sky's hue of transcendent breath I inhaled...
Well, this is a tale I shall tell in brail
connecting the dots of my imagery cell
my eyes aren't needed to see this ship sail
for my fingers correlate to emotive trails...
My emotional hail, my rainstorm fills the well
cup your hands, take a sip, encompassed, you shall
never give credit to the voids of hell
but it's likeness of darkness can mimic me so well...
Poetry on the flyleaf of matted wings
each feather a regime of metaphors and similes
highlighted or blackened with the simplest of imagery
creating a bird that may seem the hyperbole...
It's assonance to the mind's ear, an entity
music to the thought obligatory to me
I look but cannot see as I hear my empty
vessel as I sleep the consonance of my chi...
So laugh at me, journey through my converse
it will not be the first time you find yourself lost
for my transcendence is the lonely disperse
'tis a curse I divinely embrace to immerse
like the deluge of color flooding my universe
the darkness that drinks all light will transverse
in a mirror like pose of my dreamscape I search
Poetry, my mind, my reality, my words.....