[WhatILivefoR]

Correlation of the Worlds

Please sir, let me persuade your hand
and mind to strike a chord with truth;
for this strained standardized living is
just the beginning grasp, of a harp;
of the very verve of your existence.
Please come; the purest awaits. This is not it.

What you welcome relies on your
translation of asthmatic expression.
The wheezing and whistling of tired lungs
and throats are known to all who breathe…
And it is passively accepted.
You grumble not, oh valiant soldier.

Servants who curve to this deficiency
find themselves embroidery;
harsh calculation plays no part in this
dramatic piece we call inspired living.

The realm of your love stretches out
however far you perceive it to be;
the kindling sparks grow more intense
every moment you let yourself run
liberated.

The upper kinds of places bend down
upon you, my darling;
the words they whisper,
like amethyst beds- their wreathen lilac; their
language reclines softly upon your ear…

Softly upon your ear, contrast curses barely
articulate behind the devil's mangy teeth-
that bite and tear and devour,
and burns away your heart.
I’m afraid all these known too well, my dear.

Come, the purest awaits you.
The lane of the forgotten will be left
for the depraved memories,
for the unhealed wounds,
for the ironic tragedies still of this production
where they can lie impaired as a bleak obstruction;

the kind gathered and observed
from behind glass windows,
in flasks; the white laboratories.
color them white, but not pure.

Come, the purest awaits you.
Please, rest your conscience
for a moment, sweetheart.
For as long as the heavens bend down;
peace threading through your lungs-
know the return to commotion
and chaos of our lives
can be delayed, even for a few seconds…

For I long to be with you.
Yes, I long to be with you.