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A spurned songbird /
Sings to me /
Through my reflection /
A sort of specious serenity, /
An apocryphal musicality, /
Resembling, no, reminding me /
That life is not /
As it appears to be. /
Who am I? /
A sort of aeonic magistry /
Which no name, image, or philosophy /
Can /
Capture completely /
In essence, /
Space, or time; /
To infinity. /
Mirror, mirror, /
All I see /
Is this the real me? /
Or is there more /
Longing, yearning, pining to be, /
A rapturous dream; could I find, /
Empyreal Harmony? /
Illuminate my questionings. /
A hazy delineation /
Leaves me longing for more, /
I know who I am now /
But continue LoveLost in the storm, /
Prayers ascend heavensward /
As an aromatic mist, a heartfelt request /
Beseeching The Most High God for /
The diamond will to exist. /
What am I? /
A sort of aeonic magistry /
Which no name, image, or philosophy /
Can /
Capture completely /
In essence, /
Space, or time; /
To infinity. /
Mirror, mirror, /
All I see /
Is this the real me? /
Or is there more /
Longing, yearning, pining to be, /
A rapturous dream; could I find, /
Empyreal Harmony? /
Illuminate my questionings. /
Transcendental One, /
As the night sky thickens /
I fathom you by my side, /
A radiant lodestar, /
Shining from within my /
Mind’s Sky /
Once distilled, disquieted, & denuded by /
Magisterial lies. /
Why am I? /
A sort of aeonic magistry /
Which no name, idea, or philosophy /
Can /
Capture completely /
In essence, /
Space, or time; /
To infinity. /
Mirror, mirror, /
All I see /
This is me, yet, /
There is more /
Longing, yearning, pining to be, /
A rapturous dream; in this, I’ve found, /
Empyreal Harmony? /
You’ve illuminated my questionings. /
- Genre
- Spoken-Word & Poetry