Something in my heart, not immune to understanding. In the pause of moments precious it seeks to deny equipment sufficient. Lasting trials, frequent days to support the shame for never having seen the foolishness of sands through time glass watching. As prose fill the mind and poetic justice the quest for revenge and broken vessels. Love’s reliant touch equals the pressures crushing attempt at ten thousand meters above and below.

Nothing lacking. All sufficient to tasking, forward thrust, lift on occasion. Events test vulnerability and surface tension? Making reason from rhyme and calculation from random number. Camouflage rent, payment for spying upon those testing wonder. Infrequent repose. Deciding upon the profile, silhouette and cameo least respected. Showing the other side to dawn while standing rigid to the wave of night. We cling to loneliness.

In clenched palm the damaged scroll would scream if it were but paper. Release me to the winds that I may find the days of eternal understanding, Written for the mortal mind but whispering, reflecting and incorruptibility. What souls make when effort no longer matters. Time and legacy lasting, farming cares and selling worries for the locals to fold gossip. Impermeable shame breaking the backs of all willing saints and hermitage to Oracle’s perch.

I seek no fire but the cold, tortured harm of frozen hearts and dreams forgotten. That in the poorly dealt cards of men following fate we gather the dust and capsized vessels at the bottom of an icy venture. To retard lost hope and snuff ember of dreams that seek re entry. Never thought, nothing purchased, no bridge built, pyre lit or false prayer offered. Into the hope of authenticity we ride thinking ourselves perfect or at least somehow above the rest.