My rival's cry pierces the timeless sand dunes
Rebuilding remnants of always glorious
Stone and path
Rock within metal
A pool of quenching fire
This dazzling trapeze of brightest lights
Visions always lack fur
My rival exclaims in skin
They emblazon scars in these dunes
Inscriptions upon aged, those embraced passivity
Wrinkleless eyes sacrificial for stretching blinks
The benefits of that awaiting gaze
Trickled onto its sandless times
Tired dust clouds swimming to sandy shores
Cactus water drunk by the rival's foe
Such a veil being struggled down
They let ink trickle onto these frozen rocks
Tree red again sinks itself to molt
Spidery strings slither and clutch onto
Stones fly out into the sky
And the dancing cathedrals beheld by amazement
Summoned by powerful chandeliers
Chirping mimicry and cries of happy slaves
The success of one beckons for the success of many
Feast for one
Dreams yet live among these historic times
Air drifts begin—an old whispering renewed
Libraries do narrate themselves
Audience of one, generals of many
A beggar, an archaeologist, a ruler
Asunder sands and an old map in mind
No compass for this native
Just the dreaded thrill of rediscovery
Paths of stones walked blind
Fur thought of
Painting scapes and color
Felt in mockery of aged eyes
And breath heavy dreams drifted away
Tagged buried seeds
Across stretching scar-ridden dunes of an ageless life
YOU ARE READING
Rhythms From a Quarter Life
PoetryI will die the very moment this poetry collection is complete, not a moment more, not a moment less. Yet, what worries me is not death but never being able to complete this poetry collection. These are the rhythms resonating from a quarter-life.
