Photo by Ilya lix on Unsplash

We’d torn the soles of our shoes,
To their very core,

Our feet felt the ground,
As we from landed on the ocean ashore,

Cravings of melting scattered frizzles,
Searching for meaning in a land of remorse,

Driving out the noise,
Running,
To the seas that lay beyond the form,

We were creatures,
Built for the skies,

Embodying deliverance,
Through forgotten scrolls,

Reach,
As far as you can,

For they cannot view beneath the shell,
In your hunger which must be fulfilled,

The thirst fails to quench the dry throat,
Lubrication provided from aspiration,

Let it rust,
Your sanctity,

For what its worth,
Won’t be the belonging,

In this search,
No compass will be guiding,

Us to the edges,
Far beyond expected visions,

Culminate and cultivate,
Embody your soul,

Rinse yourself,
Rid of the disease,

Cleansing is not riddance,
Of the deceased,

Past is not forgiven,
Future is not ruminated,

From the present,
We derive,

For the purpose,
Which we serve,

In this endless pursuit,
We call life,

Nevertheless,
Never mind,

Move on,
Let it be,

Don’t disturb the peace,

Its not deserving,
Of vigour through fatigue,

Move past the vehement denial,
Let it be crushed,

We’re not creatures,
Born of an outer shell,

We serve no master,
Servants of our conviction,

Let it imprison your body,
Not your soul,

We’re not for sale,
Not unlike moral prostitutes,

We are unlike the serpents,
Who guide with blinded sights,

Without remorse,
Carry on,

Until the shoes worn,
Are no longer,

Resemblance of,
Belonging to another world.

I failed to learn the piano, so I decided I’d play the keyboard instead. //All aboard the Crazytrain.

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