in the world, there's
only this slow, stress-less pace
the muddy heart, water-beats
of peace
no race, no dolour, none
at all
quiet, sound is the
world, authentic, every moment
no bloodshed, brawl
life abounds in the
air, replete with existence
yet
essence picks up
images of horror, scarcity
nurses, nurtures,
mirrors nature-less discords
as insipid truth
hollowness intrudes,
a stranger with an unwholesome
passport
marks boundaries in horizon-less
minds
breaks into lies, with
wide open eyes
a lilt fast, hurried,
abrupt...a cadence queer,
disquieting still
the tuning back into
the pristine...
the attractive,
abounding whole
could journey its way
through cleansing the
lot
wishing away
outlandish thoughts.
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