Tell Me Of The Night, I Will Tell You Prophecies

Of invention.
Of all intention.
With all energy.
With laughs or pity.

Of connection.
Relations as convection.
Some warm.
Some cool.

But they all
blend together,
bound as if by a
nylon string.

Of connection.
Tell me that what
is real, is real.
I am unbound.
Separated like two
souls lost in a night fog.

Of such disconnect.
Eerie, yet familiar.
I am the greatest
unknown prophet.
For where I am
is where I know to be.

I am not lost.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s