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DISSIPATE Detached from the things that are seen I feel and hear my heart like a drum Struck soft in my chest granting me life Springing up like a flower to the sun. It beats ever soft like a youth Pounding slowly then faster I fear As a vision enters the threshold and The flower drops slow like a tear. Endless wasteland – disappear. Drums in the distance beat wildly. Inside my chest there is a child in control Sending rhythms that pulsate the wall like Slants of light from the sun through my soul. Illuminant mysteries are surrounding Powers that are unseen by my eyes As the dreaded dream - a nightmare it seems Touches the very mask of disguise. Existence rooted up. Vitality dies. Dead are the things I have seen In a world where the garden is bare Solemn yet bringing no life Seeds from the depths of despair. I am the one who went walking out Planting my heart as I went. As the drumbeat settles in failure The flowers spring up to repent. Ethereal garden. Glorious scent. |
Additional Notes:
An Acrostic effort called DISSIPATE. Thanks for reading. Any and all comments
are appreciated.
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