The Nomad’s Search for Self

history and time, both born as an infant
created in a flash giving birth to all existence

thinking back on that moment… one becomes reminiscent
that it can end, just as sudden, gone… in an instant

searching in vain not knowing where it went
hurting with pain, feeling insignificant, in the distance…

in this place and time, where displaced worlds collide
are reached unspeakable peaks of the ocean’s tide

the waves roll high, high enough to touch the sky
as creatures of size and might are hoping…

just to make it by, hoping…
just to make it through the night

where the impacts made arise the sounds of sonic cries
that opened up the eyes of both clairvoyants and the blind

the light shines so bright it even claims the sight
of those who seek visions through the powers of their minds

and there were times, when existence was an endless struggle
unable to feel it like that boy in the bubble

with diseases eating away at the heart, soul and mind
fighting with all might to construct a design

so in time, one can transform into something bigger than before
feeling like the ‘extra p’ looking at the front door

escaping to soar, high like an eagle
with all its majesty, feeling splendid, looking regal

when it all ends here you fear for the sequel
praying it reveals through seals in church steeples

the pain in the heart begins to swell
the reason you’re here too hard to tell, travelling hell

conversing with demons disguised as human beings
feeling like the natives first encountering europeans

heaving chest too heavy to breathe…
*gasp* nary a breath

unarmed forces give a squeeze,
gripping around like a wrench

sense a stench, dense teeth clenched
in the winter they splinter, like a bench

henceforth, you travel to a new port without the cigarette
not living in the past if you haven’t did it yet?

futuristic shit sticks even on psychic teflon
way beyond the scope it sits upon… move along

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