On Humanity's Path of Flight

And then the world started to erupt
in flowery branches of me,
the earthy wounds salted through,
the rustic petals denied their hue,
the microscopic cells freed from labor,
the inevitable strings collapsed on the
praying heads.

Thoughts began to percolate.
Crests of waves split his mind,
decayed memories falling as shards.
Images began to bustle,
caging thoughts’ paths.
The limbs wrought.

The infinite oblivion caressed his cheek.
Tilted the head up
towards loving eyes.
Whispered promises
between two lovers in the dark.

You yearn for a world
too impossible to ever be.

And the limbs began to wrought.

Fantastic exclamations bursting in starry splendor!
The distant thoughts earthly pleasure.
The hopes to erase the measure.

I live in a floating house
traveling the bubbly clouds.
I cannot see anything
but
The Wrought.