It is said the sun does there tread
Swoops, Dips, Illuminates Earth's wonder
Such is so to the far off dread we were drawn in and led
Could it be we are laced thick with hunger
Could it be due to threats of the new
Or is it the tunes which are sung here
Or is it a range of hues that harden the glue
When answers strike true they are solid
When lies boil up they do soar and fly
Hold tight to the soul or risk the squalid
Heavily tie up bonds of uncertainty before time passes by
And the astral drums are hard at deep beating
Anchored secure in a promise for evading wither
Welcome parade blurs faces while gleeful and fleeting
Whirled away by a detour in nightmares laced hard obscure
Yet don't be fooled, do be wary, lest blood be fully cool
Yonder do the maddening peaks reach through the umber
Passed tunnels ripe stare ghouls, disease, and half-human bulls
Protected by those we try hard to not rouse in their slumber
For this is the effort it takes one to bend
Formed by sun's cruelty, left behind unspoken our infinity
So do they pull, pinch, and levitate in attempts to force an end
Stoic though are we and once again will be used the writer's pen
To break
And to mend
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Something I was inspired to do by reading some older verse. Do enjoy this rare structure.
Some great, original phrasings in this. Very solid stuff. Nice.
This poem has beautiful rhythms but I don't understand it until the end, which is so true of the power of the pen, to break and to mend.