Thursday, 30 January 2014

Doped Tranquility

Foul smell fool’s paradise.
In the air on the minds,
riding on a breeze yet languid;

It all comes and remains, lurks and hovers.
A stone whirled thrust into vacuum
tearing apart patience,  elevating freedom.

An act of deliverance and then submission;
Falling reluctantly into the same vacuum,
transcending into the subconscious;
A blatant cognition unmasks
like hot air on a hot coffee;
A poet's rhetoric meditation.

Blood running placid and cold,
and tranquility goes yet beyond.

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