A veil of grime wanders my window pane.
Eyes exhausted, pain surges my structure...
Dawn-pink Lilies lavish the Earth’s light-gold rays
from God’s yellow porthole in mint-blue sky,
littered with punch-puffed clouds.
Bumbles wings thrum, loot from my wizard-white rose,
alas, napping on salved knitbone.
Stare-fixed, on a gathering of Bleeding Hearts, I sigh.
I exist in reality, thus, not attached.
Memories of past threads haunt me, taunt me.
Constant torment, rocks of hurt and anger,
brooks of babbling worry,
feeding weeds of hatred.
Underworldly utterances tempt me to step off the strand of roses...
End it! Enter Retribution Street.
Selfish howling wind will swallow me.
Skinless beings would gnaw my bones to marrow.
Heaven maybe? Now to sleep.
Such perfect peace, even the ground feels soft beneath my feet,
carpet of heather, lit by lemon sun.
Turmoil and anguish dissipate under a shady tree.
In this place love is abundant as the oxygen we breathe.
Happiness slips like sand through my fingers.
Drizzled rain conjures shivers,
trickles of goose-bumps frizzle my being.
Pink-purple, pumpkin hues stain the horizon,
a slash of Parma-Violet weaves within.
A being appears, aura wrapped in Arcadian-white,
gracefully glides, palm raised, a slow shake of the head.
A profound...’Not your time!’ Spoken without words.
I walk on under stars, tattooed on solar-blue skies.
The moon shines crazy through Saturn’s star struck rings.
I glance back to absolute nothingness,
slowly open my eyes to live again,
in a reality I do not know...
to stare through my grimy window with the same pain.