The Matter Of Angles

Shifting into an era of a looming forgotten terror
Here I am, simply dragging away life, drifting with a poor man’s cigar in hand
Dancing with the fading flames, which shadows, as its embers elevate
And to no surprise the atmosphere has become filled with amber colored raindrops

Creating echoes in my thoughts, whenever those tears from heaven ripple off the earth
An empath’s curse…However, unto my eyes paradise is translated in moments akin
Thus, whatever vengeance or animosity I carry deeply in my veins find conversion
So, like the cigarette to ash it all becomes, therefore after, for a second peace is known

Bear with me as we listen to the moon’s confession
One that pulls the tides, together as such, one that whispers like dying super nova

Somewhere is a place where a palace for me wanders
Among the stars, above the seven sea,
My providence reigns humbly within the light of mankind
A pagan un-forsaken by the sun, for with these blooming flowers will I grow

Time weighs heavily and as heavenly as an awaken awareness
Found benevolent with a crippling chrono kinetic sense
Making forever no longer an eternal wonderment to a psychosomatic
Because, between you and whatever god, communication is baptized rather telepathic

Whereas, holy signs and sacred symbols are for the conscious mind…perhaps… maybe

My only questions as we stray in this second so serene and benign
As flowers are found to bloom, and as the flames that cast shadows elevates ember raindrops
While, the earth is blessed with liquid fire falling from the sky is what are you conscious too?

What is an everlasting moon to a dying nova
That was once a beautiful star, reflected as a god by the seven seas
Perceptively it’s all in the matter of angles… simply your geometry… acute to how you perceive

Renee Verona – Paradise’s Poet