Recreate a love of world in romantic discourse.
The first narrative set every stage;
little wonder the Inferno-inspired apocalypse
runs in the veins of a Bible entangled society.
Around eighteen was when I lost track;
forgot to keep counting.
About when I realized forever lasts as long
as one line from a sad song.
Semantic jump-rope with a syntactic weight
to be lifted and thrown.
Feed a narrative
to watch a rock’s pages unfold.
Analyzing a subjective ‘you’ and ‘I’
is thought to teach reason to survive;
but there’s little beauty refined
in the labeling of terms.
Profile the scope of a writer’s expression
and find no honesty inferred.
Join the learned word of a born structure.
Make it better or else leave it the same;
a wasted blemish on a culture’s remains.
Name a fierce battle, and take thy throne.
Writing is what happens when duty prevents
the bliss of ignorance.
Childish narration draws blood
from young cracked fingertips.
Style’s not dead if never alive.