The Bornless One
I am the Bornless One
of a trip fantastic.
Golden array alights
on brain matter
making waves of
blood splatter
for empty graves
for days and days,
but what does it matter?
Cold birthing
artful dodgers on
old earthen green splotches
rambling on towards more doors
and empty corridors,
watching.
Open and see
and I saw:
A translucent horse
and mirth followed him.
The rider was I,
my Ego, Me.
Fear goes by
to those fantastical instances
of brownbag glimpses.
The laughter.
The laughter of witches
gliding through the æthyr,
but neither.
Come with me
to this abode of the old house
and home of solitude
and alone.
Rust and stone,
dust and bone.
I made peace with the Sun
about all that I've done
and at last, myself.
my Self.
Copyright © Lloyd J Bonds | Year Posted 2015
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