it's building the walls, it's creating a world
i know right the primal artist's thrill
it's coming from the refuge where the unseen once curled
the creation's hovering close to me at this moment
it's surrounding my unlit wonderings
it whispers in chilling tales
sensations that stuns the normal
the monotonous walk cannot continue
what is left now is what have been here since the beginning and remains here after all
small, isn't it?
YOU ARE READING
Ineffable Mysteries
Poetrypoetry in subjective and relatively small phrases for the mind to tell the eyes that there's a lot more, hidden in a place away from the obvious.
