The Cycle

Write Drunk, edit sober
the cycle reflects over and over
A masterpiece, a symphony
Whatever words come to me

So sing songs
search seas
sail stars
solar soliloquies
seeking something

Rhythm, write, read reflect
in these moments of near neglect
Insanity speaks
talk not of the meek

Tearing Tears
Torching telemetry
to trading tales of terror
thinking throughly tonight
this again and again

A voice, indeed a clarion call
Those humble words that define us all
Martyr, sinner, soldier, saint
With this brush I thee paint

Supple sprite, oh muse of mine
In me I hope thee finds thine
As darkness lays still her gentle hand
I turn to you once again

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