Banisters of Clamoring Nonsense

Right there! You see that hazy blue color covering the hill beyond the one rising out of the lake. Clouds above green rolling into gray in all directions. All around a thicker white mistish disembodied form of a storm, crossing to the east. That's where I wait enshrouded and such. In a wispy of a hue, so much, a light quiet color, always there watching after you. From the horizon so distant a blue, far away thoughts, places from a dream, people you've never seen.

Do you see it? Right there!

That soft living air. How I always wanted it to be. Wrapped in her cool wet freshly. Gazing across the miles into the world away. Compared to being it, might as well as our cameras can't capture it. You can't walk there either except in turning around to find it at the place your journey began. From out here I sit sentry watching the gate. Atmosphere drenched in me till I saturate. Cascades longing, howl's my voice pervading circles in a night drumbeat or a hoot. Song of my lands. My presence trusted in your hands.

But return to me in a new prayer. I am free and thy life returns to thee. Everything times three, the fourth is a secret, the rest still a mystery. Crossing big sky thick with drink. Condensing into banisters set in ink. Clamoring in virtureal nonsense to a Complex state disgraced and defaced.

Born ready to die, emaciated and bound. Under the justice tree let my blood flow, spilt on the ground, so carelessly, as I decree my virtues bloom for the whole world might it live in a moment of tranquility.