HeArt Affliction

Of what am I sick?
Of what is ill?
Only genes and decay
Of the physical vessel;
That leptonic space between thought

Free my will, I will
To once again soar
In the realms

And form new worlds
Not known before

I am not the writing
The words are not me,
They never can be!

Just a feeble attempt
To say what I see
About the sickness
Of me

Casting away shadows
Time isn't in rhyme
Not using sight of designs
On the subjective sides

Plain words won't say
So the closest I find,
Is Pollack's expression
Of behind the mind


CLPridemore 2012©