Experience and Lost Thoughts : The Wuhan Chapter

Misfiring hormones turned into delusion, The mind with all its limits, Converses in tattle tales; Fooling the heart, To think, It can, Think!   Mesmerizes itself, with; Deceit, In that, All that, Hurts, Is a passing.   That the physical It is a front for trickery?   And that man, A Man is a lover. Adaptation I smirk, If only all understood What happiness is…

Like a moth without light He left unpersuaded, Grated against the banks time, Drowned in an embrace of change, Knowing he has to exist. He jeered taunts to the future, Challenged the past, Spoke in the present, This place was not his to stay. The moth he was, He journeyed on, In these foreign lands, He slept; Amongst cherry blossoms and bald blackthorns, Crippled by contradiction, He sang to the wind, it blew And he went. An idealist? Rarely; He read of existentialism, The practical, The subject, The heart, The people, He was not conflicted, Never was he a tortured soul, Harnessed by reckless words, fawning nor smoke. He knew his purpose, And he left this place, To those keen to serve in blindness. We acknowledge our temporary existence, however, we celebrate our lasting connection, I will always remember you old friend...

I do not want bitter to be a lasting taste in my mouth, it’s hard when you feel like a deer struck by a car with blinding lights, I lie spun, guts ripped, the sky open, clear, starry, my destiny fled, enveloped by the up-high abyss. Helpless, tire marked, this blood seeps, seeps, away, prying its way through and to the under, the compost, the lost, the forgotten, my blood pours through, to the other side, the end. The engine awakes raves and stops, raves again, trying to pull away, trying to figure out, that, which has just ended, stopped in its tracks! Cold the world maybe but death is acknowledged by involuntary open stares. Eyes wince and blur, limbs stray; unaccounted for, the heart slows, the driver convinced, brighter the night burns, with one roar, shrouded silence remains. In that moment, I think, I do not want bitter to be the last thing I feel in this life. 

Metamorphosis of the fallen one He says there is an urge A calling within him To do better To be a man The fallen one has looked to the sky He says there is a need Inside him somewhere to change A want he cannot resist As he lays in the car seat next to me His face screams with pain This fallen one on his knees He prays for the new day An advent in Christ he wants to be He has seen his ways In the midst of his turmoil’s and ulcers His brain boils A hundred percent degrees above normal His skin breaks off He shapeshifts With a halo The fallen one I cannot see anymore No longer in my car seat talking to me No longer telling me to wait For a love unfulfilled Just his words His guitar he strums His tears burn my skin No more shall he love His eyes are not his This alternation in person He floats around undecided in his heart His language modified, he has become “I” Not us, not we, not anything He is the one that