Fixated in a trance

She said with a raspy tongue

"Life is over the day it's started"

Though the horizons knew no limits

There was much to be charted 

He left her to her dilapidated rags

And to her eerie superstitions

 Meeting new sorts of pleasant apparitions

 A mirage had tempted him in the distance

His travels were impeded by the suns resistance

Evening had come as his savior

Nights canopy of shade

Dreams in design, blue prints partially pre-made

Intuition whispered to his ear

Now the visions had all become so near

Externally looking for clues

There ain't no holster for the soul

 A loose cannon blasts on the roll

Conflict with life's deep blue hues

Shoot loose to pay your dues

Wandering in an out

The barrage of doubt

Aching for the toll to be paid

Bricks must first be laid

With focus and discipline

 Answers permeate from within. 

RATE THIS CHAPTER!

Author guidance for This poem

Knowledge and wisedom seem to be well traveled. Sometimes something you've found to be profound, one day, will seem less radiant the next. Almost as if it's pushing you along to new grounds of discovery. I'm not sure how to explain it.

updated Jun 27 '11 by PsychedelicFlowers