Indigo

The Inevitable

what will be
will believed
into being

what does not
has not

what cannot
should not

doors stay locked
windows stay shut
a pit yawns ever closer

paranoid!?

the scorching sands beckon

tiring of camel appetizers
the ever sporadic nomadic
creatures burrow through burials
seeking refuge in the bones
long tossed away
and spat haphazard

it waits to consume
a being
fresh in its naivete
ripe in its optimism
still tasting of tender youth and
milky sweet innocence
a wandering fool
well guarded
and concealed
well fed
and congealed
with the hopes of
an adventure.

:frightened:

simply because of such and such
a rumoured touch
a faltering clutch
a faulty crutch
it amounts to much too much

the colours run and jostle
wetly spewing rivulets of
glossy gasoline hues
caught up in the spin
lazily foaming
inky bubbles

the vestments
dizzy and damp
blend into
a sheet of clear
washed clean
of purpose

Washing machine?

Yes was doing loads and loads of laundry when penning this one :mrgreen:

though it's quite silly to wish all soiled clothes to become one pristine sheet...it felt about right at that moment.

celestial sparks
shooting through
a meticulous midnight.

a sprinkle in time
a twinkle of eye.

the untread
snow
brightly lit
with a lavender glow.

there trudges a tired soul
its hopes in tow
searching for a way to believe
that there is such a thing
as home.

Bewildered beings in the wild
entangled in the sinews
of a much beaten trail
tread by countless others
some lead nowhere
others lead where many
can only admire from afar
questioning their sanity
admiring how far fate let them stray
many more still traveling
begrudgingly staying on task
foolishly crowing their deeds
others await in the dark
for their promised
Judgment day