Trapped in this oceanic essence of life, light no longer gleaming, I feel like a metaphor without a meaning but I HIGHly possess the ability to see deeper into that which presents itself metaphysically. Though I’m lost in the frost of time frozen solid, the diabolical threat of plainness engulfs me….oh how do I get back to the old me?

Intriguingly, I venture toward the unknown that is cold and no longer suited for my intellect; regret finds me and wraps me quite tightly in its quest to own my soul… then I find… brightly sewn within is the shell of my former self, shelves of deep thoughts and poetic drops of methodical melodical bliss, this is what moves me to shape and bend my reality.

Familiarity reminds me of the basic, and I take it and rejuvenate its greatness, fame eventually grows weary and dies, but I smile and suddenly realize…

I’m the rising breed of a dying tribe; Mine eyes no longer deceive my mind

Light trickles into my perpetual darkness, far less harshness surrounds me.

And I resume my reign… as Poetry