Cracked joints – stereo-physically anointed by
The insipid demon who’s been inspired by wildfire juiced to proceed and right by his/her contrary eye

The silhouette pain will bewilderingly sink and sensationally swim, until – invisibly bounded by lethargic levels of sadness

And an angry old-man, down upon right round his screaming, shrieking, shrinking-violet knees, shall bargain with himself time again – to pause upon fantastically gainful rewinding
The twist of separation has been killing him

Righteously a wanderlust wish to remind himself of a long-lost creative dream – family-ties arisen when least insinuated by these perfectly sitting happy people

The bare-knuckled resilience seemed to have been working one such tremendous treat, fair whimsical wonders – until, that is…

Brilliance breathes bountiful degrees of far-fetched, -stretched, -stressed envy and we witness to inevitably watch his plagiarised, dutiful mind fail to unwind – imbalanced and guided none too gilded in gold, all too miserly, miserably by : these seriously insincere misjudgement calls

Of finally, agonisingly, unkindly uninspired his : soon as the stretched and pandering pen fails … and all by its empty, rotted and under-utilised, uncomfortably settled self

One last bounce/about breath, please… to bring it all back to where it rightfully belongs?

His dreams were fucking monstrous, once upon a fairytale-d time

… A thousand times unrealised, his words his weapons wherein his moments go to best reinvest and win

Knows it too well, that this particular life was not particularly meant for him – no less perfectly spellbinding and equally enthralled by : undivided mentionings

It’s the name and nothing else… until, that is

True talent earmarks its unforgettable self and forgets who it’s actually meant for

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