Walking the edge of the thin red line,
The voice in my head chants divine,
Kyrie eleison over and over again,
Keeps insanity inside from breaching my brain
The sounds of the earth permeate my body,
Creating an aura people perceive gaudy,
What awaits us on the flip side of all this?
A utopian existence less ostentatious?
I guess we won't know until we get there,
Unless muscle bound faith finds us fair,
And sustains our every waking worry,
I don't know why we're all in such a hurry.
~ Farls Tokley
YOU ARE READING
Past Tense Defence
PoetryThis collection of poems is somewhat self explanatory. I held a mirror up to my soul and my reflection was viewed as the following. It poured out of me, I just wrote it down.
