Another day tainted with insecure thoughts of a future fix
but dowsed in hopeful bliss,
And all I stomach to muster...
Is faith beyond this earthly... some call reality... of practical
responsibilities... ever dancing doing their daily trysts,
And gently... soothes the the enticing waves of the nebulas
Shore... as thought rides into the spheres of Neptune's grey
illusive abyss...
Confusing evermore, insecurity that scatters tension with
sores of loaded stress...
'til longing becomes obsession to join the ranks of wanton
Success,
Oh! how ironic... success! isn't that as nebulas as the baneful
Insecurity it begets?
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment