Thermal but the links are broken
I saved the blade but the
Roots are mangled
Infested by the decay of ten years enslaved
I could change my ways before the nest burns
And the churning effervescence blankets
Reality with the mists of euphoria.
It is silly in there so I close the door and
Head to the washbasin of my mind.
Cleansing renewal, so I walk down the hallway
Looking at the doors and remembering the occasions.
Dirt was beautiful for a while
Her lips were sweet
Concrete confused me
As my head sprung a leak.
Some I ignore
But the images betray
My dedication to forget,
As I see the image of my thoughts:
Pulsating.
Gliding.
Bright and alive.
