The air is regurgitated and sprawls me across the floor
The blow causes a convulsion,
Writhing my thoughts together in an irregular motion.
I am drowning in deeper waters
As each second dies by
The pandemonium of the irregular heartbeat
Claps away from the monotonous norm
We are emotionally disturbing creatures.
As every year ticks by slowly, creeping,
And abruptly accelerates at the end of the trickling parade.
Droplets disperse lividly and lively
Then weakly and lifeless
The life of a poet is one of a song
Timed, marked, and controlled by beats
Specifically by the metronome of inspiration.
Commence in your unique life.
Aware.
Creating a variance between the sides of start and finish.
Fighting the mind that created all.
Contemplating the turbulence that shook the route of fantasy.