Murmurings of the past,
fast with neverending hymns from the last,
mending wounds once bitten by misfortunes,
the sound of this heartbeat,
the call to prayer,
the breath flows, in and out, in and out, effortlessly,
and I am conscious!
The road to nowhere said Kerouac,
unfound walks,
a lost skiier and the medvec
crunching ice, while fiends roll the dice
the stove is hot and the room filled with heat
coursing veins stealing a slice
life boils over burning your feet!
Travels and trials soon to be played out
closer to an agreement much rather an appeasement!
it came out of the water, twas the head of a brook trout,
unspoiling along giving way to secretion,
perched from a tree and looking in!
show me a sign to breathe in what's right
give me my faith and i'll live free of sin!
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