Poem: What is

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The sense in being, I am comatose,

and the fern of your words spores through me.

I await to decide my propose,

before it silently floats to sea.

~~~

A desired breeze fogged with denial,

it reckons on my continuous welcoming –

what we imagine sings tunes so vile,

while we notice what we are becoming.

~~~

Cry! I clapped through wooded fences,

requiring solution to your deafening melodies.

I foresee your lack of senses,

but forgiving – you destroyed my enemies.

~~~

Our notion defies our contrast,

why the change, why the shame?

If we don’t gain, we learn from past,

we can go on without the blame.

~~~

If a heart desires, it perseveres,

without counting the broken pieces

it restores to try and fully heal –

it destroys the lost, it regains its peace.

~~~

It is what it is

what is it? 

it is what it finds

a reason to be.

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4 thoughts on “Poem: What is

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