The over thought.

See. No, where'd the vision run.

Sprinted past, lightning fast

on the horizon now, tired, looking cumbersome.

Should go to aid, or walk on and let perfection fade

unto a memorial umbrella, to protect from the rain

or act as a sail amidst the gale

and to be the inner fire, to soften the hail.

But alas.....

Maybe one day we'll meet again

and have the rest of our life, to reconcile.

Forewarned.

Constant truth takes a form words morph

true form, true that's physically scorned

true power, powers meticulously endorsed

powers trip is a fatal fall, souls stay unmourned

souls birthed in absence, silence echoes from stillborn

silence, souls true powers or witness the line redrawn

souls silence true powers, for souls searching since first dawn

for the past reflects the writing, forewarned.

Singular cloaks.

Put it on, it's only physical

if it weren't so sad

it'd be fucking hysterical

so write it in books, like it's just mythical

and put it in songs because the sights lyrical

carve it in stone for we're only told, solidity is biblical.

Reflect on the reality that you're, your own oracle.