Friday, August 5, 2011

Not at all...

Does the voice in you,
Touch, and cry to you.
The never taken path, but yet found.
Through the obscure broken visions,
Of your untouched reality.

Fire within, yet cold outside;
Unsettling icicles form the path of my breath.
Moving to be a master of nothingness.
And what is created;
Is exorbitant, free, unwound, alive.

Your darkening eyes around whats bright
And the shallow depths of what made those things
Here, nothing is duty, rightly more, a call
Envision not a clearer sky,
But a sky not at all