Nowmomentism 8-24-19 #32
Through dim and dark streets, Does it create the ended day,
Through hurtful pain conquered, From day when triumph hunted...
Fated spears do pierce thy skin, As butter and bread it breaks...
That which I see days long, Through mountains of rain,
Through peaked interest plummet, In fateful jinx in watered face,
And doubt does come for me, Can it make its way to peace...
That which nicks time from, The tapestries of killers plan;
Funny does not appear for it, That is of correctness bated,
That which my lips taste, On my mouth does fall,
That which bakes on rocks, From sun it does take it,
That which jails faith in dull, And jagged chains on prisons bane;
That which is naked in faith, From tragedy fakes feeling;
That which comes for dreams, On bended backs make plenty,
On through the catalyst of, Virtue does end in most fire...
That which turns honest those, Who make crime their way life,
Through oceans of hate, And greed does it do indeed,
Through lifted sky breaks, And stars fly open the light...
And open to the next, Bee it makes its way lost,
That which makes its home, On broken petals by the sea,
That which lights the streets, With despair and hopelessness;
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