The Never Ending Poem

The Never Ending Poem


 Act 1


And so it starts, off to the races,

With traces of a world unknown, it has begun, hidden from view,

The glory plains that level off, into interior cascades, eternal truth.

Alluding to a higher state, resembling the world we seek,

Ascending as we speak, on letters spoken with a wish, in soul, for mind is not the place,

Where these things ought to seek revenge.


 Act 2


Sitting at a looser's table, in a stable filled with lilies,

But we are already winners, between horses and their blinders, which opposes our tradition.

Getting hot is atmosphere, normal is a state of mind, penetrated by the noise,

Of the people left behind.

Great minds ought to think alike, to resemble in the rain, 

But when thunder comes about, it illuminates their ways.

Do not hide, but seek, and see, what has really come of thee.

Colors yet to be discovered, waiting on a shade of white, to go grey,

To stumble darkness, and to make it on it's way.

Starting off, but making sure, that we have in fact all pieces,

Trading queens for pawns we must, to acquire seats as sons,

Princes fall into accord, and resemble who they must,

If they are to be the ones, to stand under rays of dust.

Killing makes a space for names, hiding vowels from their mates,

Writing gibberish in French, resting sleepless on a bench.


 Act 3


Silent cravings, reps on sets, mindful warriors at rest,

Going forward, attitude, happiness is gratitude.

Acting weird for two reasons, first is omnipotent vision,

Second one beyond our grasp, jasper hands enclasped, no map.

Jeopardy at every step, treading closely to the edge,

For the middle reasons why, and entangles those who try.

Carelessness, a lengthy wave, of impulses, which untamed,

Dare to dare, to entrust, to admire does that must,

Go before us, lead away, going forward, let us slay!

Look around, and turn inside, stop your beat and wish to sigh,

Odd are those who single out, universes in their mind.


 Act 4


Ominous signs, the sky in pieces, makes war with those that look above,

Creates a limit without limits, in the eyes that see beyond.

Kindred spirits, holding shapes, of what it could be if it lasts,

Allusions to a higher state, without substance, only grace.

Imagine darkness, then go light, imagine wisdom, then go blind,

The cycle is Gregorian, the calendar victorian.

A different era is at bay, where names are given at the way,

Before it starts, so that they know, who they have been, before the show.


 Act 5


If the affair is with vices, then cheat until the smoke suffices,

Until it folds reality, into a measurable fee, that must be paid,

Although in sequence, and bearable in every way.

Trick your mind to see the answer, and then the question will arise,

Go backwards on your treasure map, start from the X, and go off-track,

And therein your answer lies.

Open your lungs, and ask for breath, don't simply breathe, but reconnect.

Act wise, there's hidden letters in your words, elucidate the flow of life,

Then go alone to take the reigns, to hold the knife.

Who knew that words have energy, that they combine, and power thee?


 Act 6


Sayonara sentinels! Watch your wrist, it tells of time,

Of it's essence, of divine, with their eyebrows in the sand,

Watching closely till the end.

Don't let wisdom make it's entrance, numb the senses, fight the restless.

Place the sequence in a circle, and become powered yet breathless.

Gather words into a basket, rip them off and make them festive, 

In a better place for them, in your head, where they are dead.

Sad? I know, but we forget, what was said, so that is that.

Arguments are often empty, yet the doubt they cause is plenty.


 Act 7


I am limitless by choice, never ended by a voice,

Loud and clear in the silence, making noise despite the violence.

Swirling drops of rain in summer, left alone to ponder wonder.

Fishes fishing for the frail, caving faster than a bail, 

Paid by them that see the sentence, only ones still in ascendance.

Gracious sevens in a sequence, caring about fives in lines,

Triple outcome trilogy, ending wisely with a rhyme.


 Act 8


Art is that which barely is, strengthened by it's frail nature, 

People see the lack and praise, they acknowledge what remains.

Gathered minds discuss the past, the ambitions laid at rest,

Recognized with a delay, as the customary way.

When the gallery is closed, paintings tend to shed their color,

They're alive only in view, quantum physics for the few.

What's the math behind the red, that sits violently on roses,

Waiting to be shouted at, or at least grabbed for the noises?

I imagine ripping open, sheets of time before my eyes,

And discovering reality, 4D views, high def on Tuesdays.


 Act 9


Eyes are blind from birth in humans, for they only see the light,

Which directly passes through them, rendering the rest as dark.

Being unable to see, what are you and who is me?

To confront reality, one must close his eyes to see.

Pale pastels fading fast, numerology at best,

Tricking numbers to secure, visions of our soul at rest.

Chanting cheerfully and hopping, hoping for a cheerful chant,

Gliding on a polished surface, silence waves before the rant.

What's a ship you board for seconds, if not your own word for world?


 Act 10


Embellished bodies murmur trances, condensing vapors into fumes,

Ecclesiastic sinful natures, aromas of darkness in grooves.

Benign but spreading, chocolate yet white, intergalactic,

Preparing the ships for the night.

Shift in a state where wings spread double,

Where confidence sits like plastic on marble,

Counter the voices while laughing at trouble,

Buckle your belt, and place in the duffle, the struggle for class,

Don't tumble, go subtle, stay humble.


Act 11


Single plated daffodils, growing carelessly, no effort,

Rising as a wild reminder, that one cares for the nothings.

Somethings look at them and ponder, they remember their wonder,

Thus the nothings turn to somethings, placing rings on wandering kings.

Gracious rhythmic swirling cycles, trials for the wind in spirals,

Life bestowed like falling leaves, time's mosaic on repeat.


Act 12


Crucial crimes created equal, soft alignment for the feeble,

Wake up while still asleep, to perceive of just how deep,

Just how it's all cosmic dust, in a dream in which we trust.

Signs on paper we discuss, it's unjust but we adjust,

Fortune cookies say we must, quickly rise, prevent the rust,

Diamonds prevent the weak, to climb from the hole we dig.


Act 13


Moving twice, acting together, winning once, it lasts forever.

Game's in session, cards on deck, adding letters just to check,

If math still decodes our answers, don't need manners if we're masters.

Moving down in size to find, what creation had in mind,

When He fashioned all that is, smallest particle it seems,

If we can but find in time, replicate and be divine,

Create everything from scratch, make it better, strings detached.


Act 14


Enter wordless, make a wave, die alive, and then come back.

Close the gap and mend the map back to source.

All done in a brief encounter, needed more, all left in wonder.

Came to hit one note and go, to attune us higher, flow,

A reminder of the vow, an eclipse forever now, fades away...


Act 15


Gone yet present, silent beat, no more pauses, hit repeat.

Ethereal limerence, like petrichor, no heartbeat, at last complete.

What's a fitting place to stay, for one that must go away?

Conscience, inside of us, blockchain living on array.

Disobey, but then convey, everyday is Saturday, in your mind.

Beyond present, in the now, is where one can find the vow,

Or a vowel to connect, all the words that can't protect,

If the statement in the end, deems the dialect defect.


Act 16


Tarnished views reflect what's next, at it's best,

Collected rest, is the state expressed, a test.

Flap my wings once a week, pray I glide over the weak.

Make arrests, confine the meek, do not raise your voice to speak.

Elevate the argument, temperament, the required ornament.

Offenses when overlooked, shine to leave all others hooked,

Gravitating solemnly towards inner sanctity.


Act 17


Beauty thrives on background colors, we assume the hour's ours,

Powers tower over paper gifts resembling lovers.

Bow down early, take a stand, meddle not with those that can't.

Elastic rebounds bite the dust, kindest words, wildest advice.

Love is all in all that is, power source, commence the course.


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