So I found myself resiliant, alone,
ready to abdicate the regal throne,
cast down for silence set in stone,
redemptions neither cast nor blown,
tension creeps in lace she's known,
Along a path of levitation I stole,
enticed by a creed to make my goal,
snow falling by shapes found whole,
simply happy to see carbon or coal,
black as night and eager as a foal,
lightly brushing, now see the hour,
weasel gone away from silent scour,
ever to follow nor hungrily devour,
a repose where fog sought one dour,
sad child who once abdicated power,
all for a sentence of laughter and,
I'm going to try to revise some old writings. Maybe I could work some of my wretched, modernistic, poorly formed poetry into them. Maybe.
Simply to believe in the abstract is not enough. One must be redoubtable and redouble one's efforts to change the images, the preconceptions that have been formed when our actions take root into habits. Speech patterns, behaviors, interactions analyzed and reduced on some instinctual level to form a picture, right or wrong, of the behaviors we find ourselves in.
This pain is here reminding you to leave and come back home.