A jarring motion strikes the back
A rap to the door goes to tap tap tap
The Brachiosaurus eats the T Rex
The Street performer makes a million and fifteen cents
A wormhole finds life in an endless void
The truth becomes legend and legend just a story
The walls of time crash down to earth
A Sphere of proof is simply thrown in the hearth
Limitless possibility is quelled in seconds
Life is born from the ashes of remnants
The tide breaks and smashes into clouds
And words give way to a sacred sound
The betterment of society falls and rots in hell
The anarchist is acknowledged and a revolution swells
An oxymoron is reached in this paradox of world
A monochrome piece is written in colourful word
Living this, I beseech you to proclaim
"This contains no basis;
Bias is all that remains"
And once again I'll implore you just one more time to say
"What you say is schizoid,
Mad, and awry"
But, I speak truth
As truth I spoke, I proclaimed
I announced and committed
The feeling to a frame
Of confusion birthing wonder,
Hunger for knowledge,
Fame,
A need for salvation,
A hope for joy,
A color for sadness,
And an ultimatum
--All must not change.
YOU ARE READING
In the Garden Primeval, where I'll pray for you.
PoetryI have a plan for you You'll deal with it all And with the weight of the world on your shoulders you'll face a fall People won't catch you Many times But I'll pray for you They'll come in time
