Running in Red, the dead said something in my head,
the dread bled lead into my being. What am I seeing? Fleeting feelings revealing, rarely repeating, can’t let them defeat me.

Rewiring through time, describing a Fire in rhyme, 
that one in my spine,
it’s a Seussian crime, & I swear, I’m fine, 
nothing wrong with tryin’ out flyin’ away from the well, 
a human hell that cast its spell,
                       to Come Hither and Wither in the Nether,
                       be torn & tethered by its weather
                       be leathered & burnt 
                       by its current,

& if it weren’t for the Hedonist’s Hedge that marked the Edge,
                                             the wedge in my reality, 
I would’ve gone in.

Instead I pledged my pursuits to the flute
her feathered fruits help me refute the polluted mutes from back
There [Ether].

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Spiraling out into a dark direction ~ Carmello Yello


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tRoublEd EtheR

A troubled EldeR from lands

far, flat, and dull,
grew an EyE
for exhaustion.
Monochrome modern monotony had taken its toll.

As breath tugged him
in its cool gentle waves,
and his tongue tasted upon
the wind’s pursuits;
an EtheR formed within.
In front.
Behind. Aside.

At dinner
he sat & he sipped
on a prescription
mystic’s brew
of Mush & Mellow.
Lost fountains
became him
as his stomach eased
into the spiraling reality
brought forth
by the antidotes.

The senses erupted,
Transformation, Manifestation,
an Elegant dance
of the melodic suicide with
Fear and Ego.

There were Visions
of the Ancient Trees
that have outlived,
the mess of reason,
to bring forth recognition of trade
perpetual sources shared;
he called It.

Entrancing Essence
took his Shape:
dipped It into delicate Light,
painted It onto induced Exposure.
This EldeR combined the EtheR
with a numbing Tourniquet
that slowed thoughts
to Utter Stillness.

When the man awoke,
his mouth was dry with dust,
his bodily cloth had
transitioned with age,
but the Remedy had
left its mark.

This new Midnight sage
wore a
traveler’s grin,
questions of sin.
became Him
and All.

The Village & Its people
in the misty trails,
mouthing mantras
with each crash of thunder,
And the Sage partly with them
as an
otherworldly presence
the Colourful landscapes
of the living and dead.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

REath: Heart, Earth, the art

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