_carpe diem
Disturb dust on a summit’s peak as I blush from a cutting breeze,
disrupt each shoulder holding the burden of allies, and lies,
past lives crushed under bloodied feet: heart thumps (a drummer’s beat).
Cardiac movement’s hardly that prudent - exuding lust if lovers sleep.
My spirit is hungry; stomach’s weak: untouched by the coming feast.
Glories of yester-yore are ineffective gauze - hesitant lips caressed a
desolate jaw (it was never much more) - a present exists: at best the
rest is thought. Schematic, presuming you can plan, mentally,
a pattern’s renewing as ancestor’s hand gestures span centuries
but one’s path isn't proven. My mantra is brief: Man’s meant to be.
I exist in the now, the air whips with a sound my mind garners,
to live in the past or look to the future’s stasis, so why bother?
Last edited by Eŋg; 09-12-2014 at 12:42 AM.
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