Scar Tissue

on

Foreign in psyche
diving in yellow fields
above the fruited planes;
making amber yields.

Men and women stout
whose wisdom is measured
by assured righteousness
truth walks in the sun.

Discovering seeds of
a new day up in the horizon
while I delve myself in hell;
at night I am consumed.

Realistic visions
I am my prison
what have words spilled now?

All I have wanted
All I have haunted
is just a prison of my vision now.

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