Paths

 

Worlds, visions in vibrant flashes,

mind, body and soul bombarded by beauty,

imagery, splashed across mindscapes,

broad strokes of the insane artists brush,

slashed, swiped, weapons wielded in anger,

as the poet battles with his pen.

 

Beauty and devastation,

life peeled from unyielding corpse,

decay of times past,

ravaged and raped by demons,

once defiled and devoured,

one too young and fragile,

for such revenge.

 

A world, so unwelcoming, always undeterred,

the inside, always so inviting from the outside,

watching from the other side,

belonging to neither.

 

Stoic

 

 

 

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