A seclusionary thought is the greatest rhapsody one could construe
For each second of thought is one of recluse.
Walls and obstacles are of olden tales,
Those that have continuously been promoted, but fail.
The Overseers govern our will and shaved our bones.
Stripping out flesh and replacing them with immaculate clothes.
No longer of use and have become obsolete,
I am, not of myself but someone cursed.
The pool of Narcissus is no longer stable,
Currently fouled and impressingly disabled.
The pillar of light that once fought the blight,
has become defiled and filled with fright.
The picture once plastered with implosive colors, no longer appeals to the human, but to the perverse.
The land, once assembled in perfect harmonization,
has been misused in the humans utilization.
And to what am I,
A being, not of creation, but of destruction,
To do in a vacant space that
Was my face?
YOU ARE READING
Cognitive internal inversions/a soliloquy to the Earth.
PoesíaA collection of my poems.
