type being slowly recognized in my mind as that of natural
beauty, situated in times of passive sorrow.
Feeling it within, letting it consume me with a secret code,
being translated as quickly as I write it into this poem.
Not noticing anything besides myself, finding many thoughts
to arrange just so within my mind, letting myself be totally
engrossed in a subconscious world all my own.
Faced with an unrelentless song of meaningless doubt, faith dwindles steadily through the years.Gnawing away at interior lives of many, fraying the very existence of truth, life becomes hopeless and drifts slowly away.Leaving not a trace of human respect or dignity left to pass on – not even hereditarily.
Existent behaviors being laughed at as I float through the sky of my mind, interiorly acting like a person who just doesn’t give a damn.
desert with no where to turn.
When thinking, pondering the beauty of musical incantations as they saunter in and out of my mind.Always tracing patterns anew, bringing out contextual designs to adhere to poetical rhymes.
taking along so many ideas and views ofliterature in nature to this particularpage of paper.
