What day is it, the lamp is cold but the fire is burning. .
Do you ever feel like doing something? And doing it, and forgetting what’s the time, or day. Feels like movement in your solar plexus. .
Give it time, it’s getting there. Let it grow. .
The days drip on like leaky faucets,
Stumbling through a mirrored conscious
Im picking up pearls she left behind.
Reason dictates, and I accept.
Lofty heights the wary whisper
Calling for a troubled plight
The beat I heard, it came from her.
She held it out for me to grab.
And she giggled—coy glance wilted
shoulder dropping as her head tilted .
Holding a finger in the air she said,
You this night will play savant
A calling waits for you to need what you want
A stutter step or fall back might
Pay return with agonizing delight
Clambering the bells and whistles,
Coterie spoons forks and missiles.
Returning home to find her illness dead.
i found a soft mattress in a mans head.
I laid there all afternoon til my mother came
She handed me a muse the same
I found him bouncing changing form
Amorphous blob that I do adorn
He grabbed me by the mattress
And took me to a valley
Where the wiser walk sideways
And the rest don’t walk anyways,
Sitting by the blood red bark
The grass grew orange and dark,
The sky blackened over satin clouds.
Whispers of the night she said,
Whispers carry to the highest angles.
Splitting the sky by a chariot on fire,
He received me by name.
Choosing me among the foliage
Bird plant fruit veggie or animal,
The name he gave me was Sael.
Storm settled and the eye was hid.
in morning stupor, I pried open the lid.
And this is the song I gave me to say
You are I am. And I am is here.
I will always be coming there,
To see you my dear.
I’ll be coming to see you my dear.
#message #music #poem #shadows #awakening #latenightthoughts #oneshot #beats #mpcstudioblack