Meditation
A flower opening, a small mellow
sweet from my shell gliding through
fragrance's hue enveloping evenings
sun facing moon sliding into each
poem touches the ponderings
ringing through throngs of flourishing
wants resounding colour glowing into
time standing still motion stopping
perpetually hands slashing dream
of a new possibility born of death
of the metronome counting against
will I have my fill of this thrill
cutting deeply and still my will
makes me meditate on this drill
maintained movement of need
to feed with a glee privalaged and free
discussing disguistingly languishing
inside a cave forever rave to be saved
by shoulders of steel healing and
needing to feel something real
and recklessly breaking the seal
only stealing a piece of the petals
peeling promises dealing needs
fiending a way through the
landscape of greed indeed I deem
this dream worth none of the sweat
I imbue the gain worth the grain
of salt past my shoulder thrown past
the throne I sit on ruling none
of the kingdom my pawns will shun
blocking my sun shadow my day
capture the ray and all hope
spay in your eyes the reflection
is gray my love colour always
closing the door to dread that is
done opening hallways always
has shone but is finally seen
in between distant scenes in
the theatre screen a beautiful
sheen rendered seems better
than your hand could have gleaned



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