If my Myocardium were the concurrence of all the Divine lines that nest my soul-bird, I want to set it free.
Incarcerated and boxed, lachrymose as it lies I want to break it’s cage. And feel the wonders of the firmament.
Words of wisdom and tales of epic ,I have heard and read. Didactic verses ,in golden truths assert we are born of Ambrosia.
Yet ,I could not decipher the inscriptions in my heart. Is it possible to fathom the Nectar of the Divine?
I have rummaged through the enigmatic land , traversed the paths entwined- no speckle of the spectacle that grants the Elixir of Life. The heart aches in pain.
Out of the grind, and fleeting fragrance of life, crossing the bridges....can you find thy in the skies or beyond the onyx cascade of waters?
Lo! The blossoms of spring bloom brimming with beauty. Who creates their aromatic essence?
If the world that we see with the windows of our soul, around ,could come to life within our mind and soul. Would we really indulge in the symphony of sensations as the beauty around appeals?
Can anyone find the land where lies the blessings -seraphic..?
That can dispel what’s doomed and lying as pallor- gloom.
First published in Harbinger Asylum
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