simplistic wonders into the world that drifts behind
black stones that hold their breath
under the weathering waters of my mind
the lens shutters at your presence
a shaken picture captures the hopes of a fateless tomorrow
maliciously, it has slithered into my palms
venomously infecting the innocence of eternity
make no return, no entrance onto these grounds
banished from the fire of a dream
the contriving pattern of a lost gratification
a transitory sun burning through vengeance
but what belief is there, when all else has fallen away?
a drop of forgiveness could not have reconciled it all
the actions of your heart have expelled a darkness too great
there will always be a distance
separating the fruitful isles
from an unfortunate ideal that has sealed itself into the earth
"who's turn is it?"
but there is no answer when freedom has reigned
control has pulled it to a halt
there is no idea that anyone could obtain
the first leap into reverse
diverging the opposites, converging the appearance of similarities
in compliments of creation,
there is a profound criticism,
a reasonable content outlining my mind
to have understood that the beginning of a matter
always goes back in time to where it has originally begun,
and all else falls out of existence from where it was left
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