Patior Passionem

Essence mined of endless dreams

Polished into abstract scenes.

Brought to life in A through G,

Sharp o wit did give a squeak

only such yet not a squeal.

Eager for what time did yield.

Needing not a premise known.

Absorbed in tones where scenes revealed,

Poor intent of past instruction.

Shattered truths they must conceal,

Holding back the future’s prize.

Waiting still for our trust to heal.

Abundance of idea hints hope

Myriad Patterns left with ropes.

Dropped to us we know not Why.

Something wouldn’t let us die.

Someone wanted us alive.

For reasons we may not surmise.

Once was he a lowly wretch.

Shunned and sticking close to death.

More than once these depths were waded.

Many times hath stood persuaded

By no one but our other selves.

toward pursuit flying serpents

Despite us knowing all to well

The only word for this was fail.

Sadly still we kept on trying

Desperately to catch their tail.

Til one day we’d had enough.

Left the lives we thought we loved.

For hidden paths to higher ones.

Took so long to understand.

Where our feet and minds should land.

Endlessly we searched and scanned.

Weaving plans for to escape.

Finally they’d taken shape.

We lead ourselves back through the gates.

The lost had thus become the found.

This costed not, we earned our ground.

Learning now to paint with sounds.

Yearning travel, wayward bound.

——————————————————————————————-

Thank you all, that’s it for now.

Glad to see your still around.

If you like my cryptic rhymes.

Comment, like, and hit subscribe!

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Incrementum

Harmonistic

non-intentions.

Holding shares

in eight dimensions.

seeds be sewn

beneath thy sentence,

Cultivate words

To yield conventions.

When the sprouts

go grow and bloom

Well harvest masses

Of attention so soon.

How Rapidly far

Well spread these roots

To drink the liquid

Through knowledge tubes

bled From books

we’ve loved and read

And every doctrine

hath transcend

Hearkened lines

of remnant blends.

Beckon thine

into my head.

Catching thoughts

like outbound trains

Mechanical beauty

knowledge for freight

Sacrifice fame

invest for thy brain.

Lest we bow down

play role of the slave.

Piss on the laws

we care not to break

Let anarchists bend

Till they form a new shape.

Prefacing risks

lie in wait for the take,

Please carve us a path

to most fruitful of days

For chaos in truth

Is ye fruits bore of fate

May Pattern and irony

Be locks of the gate

Thus keys it requires

We’re hid for defense.

Passage be granted

for kind and the wise

Though of its location

I cannot provide

The trailhead to follow

begins in the mind

From there it will take you

On journeys to yonder

To Speak we will not.

But Surely we’ll ponder

And ponder we ought

For ages we wander

With nothing but thought

And as a condor

We may fly

Yet unlike you

Way may not die

For when our bodies

Waste away

Our soul will not

Our spirits stay

So do not fear

Thy natural death

And keep these words

Beneath thy breath

And so until

We write again

Press subscribe

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