Unfamiliar spectrum analysis
of prism-ed logic spray,
dark realities
bring me to my knees,
threatening to steal the sun away.
Irregular, refractive hotspots
bring about the rain,
shadows attack
the weapons rack,
and take turns inflicting pain.
A broken resolution
leads me to the garden gate;
withered moments fade
in the quiet shade,
poking strobe-like holes in fate.
Blue-flame glow inside the dawn up
that winkles in my eyes;
could it be
no one can see,
the finish line for the prize?
Measured moment's shadows
cause reflections crisp, and stark;
the end's begun
the shadows won,
they're still dancing in the park!
Comments
Thanx Lonnie....
...I truly appreciate your comment on this one. It came out of nowhere!
Sincerely,
doc.