Inner Realm
Fragment
A deep desire inside my mind,
Pooping the vein the day and the night,
The memoir that is gone; buried deep!
The flavor of the past is zippy,
The non-existent pain profound.
The past is a footprint, abide not,
The reflex of time that reaches to- be,
The deep pain Crinkles of to-be and not,
The future is a seedless space.
I am a spirit torn inside,
between the past and it’sforecast.
The overwhelming depth is too tame,
The present is painful to grasp.
Sitting close to my self and listening,
to the unuttered word of my heart.
A tiny breast of time that surges wave,
The ripple of time that seems naught.
The skyless skies, the op-ed page,
Of my mind is hogwash to being.
The mistrial of mind is beyond time,
The past is dead and the present quiet.
The music of the being is flowing,
in the womb where silence reigns tied.
Inner Realm – Fragment
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