Sometimes, the fire growls.
dull grey coats a sleepy spirit.
Live, fill everything and float…
Elated spirits come at a cost unbeknownst to no man it seems.
The weight of the world crushes,
filling spaces with gravel and sand.
A memory vanished?
Why must it be that way!
Bare feet slap concrete in a glassy haste.
Clinking clavicles chime to the tune of a chilling reality.
Life: (n) a prescribed trajectory mindlessly fulfilling its fated assembly line.
Dreams of innovation cloud a dusty reality.
She weeps, for at midnight,
her carriage will sprout
and her mirage will have