Painful and fatal disease
Not of this world...
Drawn down by Surama
Former priest of Atlantis.
Surama was a mummy;
But back restored to life
By a necromantic ritual
Performed in North Africa.
Wisdom and power
If the disease was spread.
Disgusted with this idea,
Surama left the humane.
Brilliant warm reds
caress the darkening sky
A fever pitch of
colored emotion
I am not at all
at peace
Pieces come un glu ed
with blue blurred
lines and a hopscotch
of memories
Spinning and spinning
Eyes upward, heart heartward, feet floating
I can swim but sometimes drowning scares
the hell out of me
Inside. I stay there often; too often.
Too often, time is reduced to
tentative and fleeting moments.
Brilliant warm reds
caress the darkening sky
A fevered pitch of
colored emotion
I am not at all at peace
Pieces come un glu ed
Though, sometimes-
the glow of sunshine
defrosts my thoughts
and devastates my
structured palace
The walls, they tumble down
And, in the span of two small breaths
I step outside
to not just watch
but to become.
Two small breaths
-Laughter
Two small breaths
-Joy
Two small breaths
-Surrender
Two small breaths
-Drowning
Spinning and spinning
Eyes upward, heart heaving, feet frantic
The heavy drum of heartache
beats beats beats
I can swim
but only
if I stay inside
Only, inside.
Painful and fatal disease
Not of this world...
Drawn down by Surama
Former priest of Atlantis.
Surama was a mummy;
But back restored to life
By a necromantic ritual
Performed in North Africa.
Wisdom and power
If the disease was spread.
Disgusted with this idea,
Surama left the humane.