The music’s rhythm is curved and tender,
And the transcendent light is undulating in thought
And definitive in nature,
Accentuated by November blues.
The slippery mildew has an authentic essence and
Magenta blood spills out of my cuts.
Why is it we fear the ordinary
But feel extraordinary?
The fathomless voice of the wind screams in my ear
For the trees shiver.
Do you know that rain wants to travel in boats?
And that past time is frozen in ice?
And that cigarettes burn the universe?
YOU ARE READING
Someone Like Me {Poetry}
PoetryWith power there come words. And with words there comes music. And with music there comes joy. And that's why I write poetry.
