Events seemingly pointing to a deem light at
the end of the tunnel living my bothered stream
of thoughts contemplating what to do next.
The flow of the stream culminates into a course
of life undertaken by choice with a counter force
that tosses the cowardly nature to succumb to
the inevitable.
Leaving no regrets to haunt thyself in this slumber
i intend to re-awaken from a sense of betrayal and trust.
A sense of survival dwells on deeper to overwhelm
the instinct of blowing the clogged flute to rid the under
lying dust that stops the tunes from a melodious flow.
The collector knocking on the door with a ransom over
my head,while the kettle boils on the firewood with home
grown tea to calm the pangs of thirst biting down my throat!
whoever fed `em multitudes on one loaf of bread is needed
at this crucial moment to keep the ghosts at bay while i sketch
my thoughts on a blank Canvas revealing the hidden images,
from a long awaited abstract de-construction of visual imagery.
Exhaulting the hype like you are dynamite makes a loose canon
swayed from focus and start using them peanutts to think instead
of the mind. Dreams full of "maybe"live less options than walking
the narrow pavement.
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