Renegade

This roadway paved gray, I climbed on the back ebony and blue to feel the wind burst through my black, hair swept away until it creates a mask against face. Least do I wish to release what was in my eyes, yet somehow, it peers extensively back. Holding on, twisting with you like fragile trysting, I feel the ground burning beneath, the skyline dipping deep, infringing upon me as heavens fall at feet. I will grab onto more than conviction allots, but somehow left heedless as irony plots against me. How you deal, merged in between, and they were unknowing of your presence-- my apologies for this acquiescence, I was blindfolded and decreed silent for the time being. But did your discreet nature break you when you beseeched to me, and I turned away unrecognizing? I know you felt my palm sliced from contritely withholding sacrificial dice, boots gripped concrete as it cracked, but somehow dragged us bleeding in alleys. Celestial merciful bandage keeping cut dressed- Oh, if I hide in the dead of night, should forgiveness shelter the same way as covenants once did? With dualities heard, your pleading revealed at the red lights on junctions unreached, each wanting their promise to succeed. And I sink sink sink with each tortured appeal, supplications of whom He grants He will. Metamorphosis ceased, and melt did we into pavement, a fire sparked, movements becoming religious defeat. Silver bangles wrangled at wrists, chained by self-reprieve, but never more liberated again, and mourn for what could have been of me. I see her standing sometimes, but I blink and think it is imagination speaking. She is draped crimson, and knelt with hands spread, eyes graciously drowned in faithfulness. Still I cannot finish this testament; lest it eats me inside, depleting a cell at a time-- I can grieve later with witness divine. Behind the transitioned cloak lies someone who reaches out to endless horizon and rides furiously-- wretched, beautiful darkness with pangs of enlightenment unraveled beneath. Hold on while I am here, for I do not know what tomorrow brings when traveling by renegade wing…

Manifestation

"I don’t see your name on her," he tauntingly yelled in your face while you bulldozed through him like a rebel with a noble cause defined, pushing aside all who counter attacked or even tried. Little did perpetrator know that your name was already branded upon her with vivid sights of expressive eyes that she knew danced deep inside your thought and wounds behind the corridors of childhood scarred dreams, running free with blue and white complexities. You already made her flinch, one that does not bend. What were you thinking inside she could not decipher, though watching mouth move intently contrived a tale of who you are, and how valiance has always been engulfed by you. Chivalry cannot fade so long as you drape those righteous robes, traits that sparked pride for her, held back tears as you spoke. You did not notice her smudging eyes as she hid behind glass when possible, and diverted glance at times when senses strongly held tight, seen sorrow or when perceive your greatness coming forth a prince of persia finding his valor so authentic to swallow. Honor being your crowning glory, do you even realize how highly you were held though she didn’t alert? It was at first sight that she became absolutely drenched in admiration. But even from upon her throne, how could she knight the already gallant? Striding tall, strong, face blessed with countenance. And when you said you stand for goodness, did you know you have always held elite heritage? You were born divulging promises, and feeding others even when hungry with words of wisdom, royalty, and a rare invincibility. Her moments of vulnerable silence did you grasp? Forgave you a subterranean stare, as she was there entranced, listened, absorbing with intent unimaginable, and trying to take in the time ticking away with stoic reverence? She is far more manifest than what you think- for this was penned in deepest emotion, and you more beautifully intricate than what she could have fathomed...

Masquerades

A consciousness exists as such that oft times we can hear magnitudes and spectrums without single touch. Voices crest a thousand words each full with meaning and carried abruptly across an urban landscape. From white smoked jasmine scents moving through Gotham's crypt into sobered hamlets uphill nestled in still places against turbulent winds blurred-- the sounds of the world are your backdrop to a dialect fully recalled, a mix of many universes bundled into what is heard. And whilst experienced auditory stimulants-- listen not only to words but to inflictions, reflections, and inflections, but even the minor intonations that send chills bejeweled with a tenderness beneath. The passing of day has truly been something strange-- began driven and aggressive, like forced against a wall by predator’s mouth heaving, rendering me a meditative livewire wandering the wet streets electric-- and then, unexpected culminating with something transcendent to the ear, chronicles deposited as if rare gems decorated across heart, held closely till it is heard again-- voices transfused into inspiring masquerades of being.