faded to dark.. towards my inner sanctuary.
Upon this transient marbled floor; awake and aware, my alternate form.
Pale indigo air breathes into me, my softened gossamer skin..
Gently crescendoing omnivorously.. hearing the hymn.
Facing the ocean in this muted station,
Endless depth before me brushed by the wind’s creation.
Of this permanent dawn, the electrical rhythm advanced far beyond..
the magnetic desires of the ashen world
For critical mass redemption was lost in the hurl.
I was reborn the moment I let myself die.
And the moment I realized there was no need to lie.
Couldn’t hold back the urge to transform
All I thought which had been forlorn.
Under the dome temple of my own eyes,
Swirls of particles like bowties
Merge into me, as the difference between environment and my body quickly become undistinguishable from each other..
(C) Jennifer Lee, The Voice Of The Wounded Soul
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