I see the suns, and to my own demise-
The heat, the light; a photosynthesis
Of mind, of fight of a vacant mind's eyes.
But to seed a life in sorrowfullness
And heed in no desire forms as birth.
Or to discover that with banner or
By never may I ought to leave from earth?
What is it to tread on life nevermore?
Is it to live a life complete, untoutched,
Or to beseech an homicidic end?
With such regard is it just; life in chaste?
Or through intertwining do friendships mend?
Find that before raze, acquiescently,
Civilize the mind, but make savage body.
We sit in a learned sea of trouble
With thought that location, or mind we free.
Wobbling in loves not fable.
A longed scent forsaken without see.
And of motions in space, no condition?
Landing here nevermore, one by land
And two by shore? Life without premonition?
Spanning no speed, reality quite bland.
Discovering a multitude of you's,
Light on the matter nought sought without spill-
An endless sea of incognito cues.
And thoughts live, in mind accomplished fill.
To find demise in light, or discover
Deaths without sight- scattered, I, forever.
To which appeal is thought more beautiful?
To know vitality as cycle,
Or to think fin is end; to end we pull?
Aye, longer with these matters I trifle
For I have found birth from ceasing before
And see no purpose in dwelling after.
World unseen as result of actions or
Dwelling in pettyness, hatred, anger;
thoughts well abhor. And in free enterprise,
In child's play of self-worth, or in free verse-
A life desired not to recognise-
Carping no body, viewing none as cursed.
Elated is where most inquire go,
Without liberty I resound in no.