Tears of once forgotten folly now enthralled by the dynamic mess of mayhem falling despairingly into dark caverns of convoluted consciousness awaiting the torrents of devastation which flow as an avalanche flowing down a mountain, covering all. As the ick threatens to suffocate or consume we cleave to sanity we grasp for love if it would be given us, hollow eyes searching hoping needing eyes that smile back, how lost can we be in familiar surroundings, very lost for where can our hearts rest when will the sweet release come where we can freely extend ourselves unfettered by insecurities but filled with confident safety, overwhelmed by the eyes that seek us out.
About the Creator
Johnny Gerbrandt
Love lifting, love writing, love designing. My journey is a strange one but I love it. learning constantly.
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The Cord
Winnowed orchids arguing not to be isolated from life, to carry delight to the eye however briefly then witheres and disintegrates, tis the sluggish assignment, if this magnificence is the thing that you look for, care for the entire, permit it to keep its cord, so its excellence might be appreciated the full course of the time apportioned such things. The keeping of the climate, the watering, the keeping of the life, might be some work contrasted with the first, wherein the work is short as is the prize, while the later is appreciated to it's full cycle. There is a spot for both. For whose space is unlimited. And some are very delicate in their needs to ensure vitality.
By Johnny Gerbrandt3 years ago in Poets
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