Ambient Occlusion

when I fly.
I hope to stay high
not fall for another kind
nor lose my chance to fancy
a life that has not been lived
yet now nor ever for eternity.

only at one time
would I be given the chance to escape
our maze of deceit
and foggy misty nights.
still I write
on every foggy misty night.
still I write
on every foggy misty night.

And upon chance I can stay a heathen
but never for more than a sudden bout
before I reclaim myself and my demon
as separate but together, cherished on a boat.

the air breaths heavy
upon my burdened shoulders.
I know this heaviness
is the very same as my ancestors
only now they smile when looking at humanity
to see how we have played the hare and escaped its scattered shores
with wit and knowledge and all things unified.

spoken like a poet
unable to be rid of the images
in his head
but without skill his experience yearns
and so he dives head first with bristling horns

it preserved him in his own right.

so as to serve all-powerful-strength
another cold night,
without the rain & the snow.
From our natural beginnings we have separated
and my only show
has been
gold.

So we say no idea is worth our time,
contemplation, or execution.
Yet we run our energy constantly
so that our hair may stand on end
when reading buttons pushed over
daisy's ink pen.

So this has been a cover up
only a show of sorts
a mock execution if you will.
It is the death in laughter
and the wince of pain after
the show must continue
our adaptation is our virtue
and so let your imagination spark bright!