borderlands of inner solitude

I stand between chaos and noise; I live at the borderlands of inner solitude and outward silence

While the meek seek to inherit the earth my meekness seeks only to inherit his heart

To build my palace on turbulent waves of his emotions, though my palace, king he is.

To call the sacred neurons, black wired nerves of his skins mine, to lean on the paradise of his embrace and gaze the mountains of tomorrow.

And whether he here with me or elsewhere, to hear the knocks on the doors of his heart or the fallen thuds of an old fallen friend in to the splashing pools of an older spring

I stand between walls of critics and lack courage to face the world and the truth inside of me

If rays are made of hope, I grab it and step forth in radicalism, but the backbiting arrows of society shoots me down.

Let me dwell in your heart not on your social media walls, day after day let the feeling grow.

And if Sigmund Freud’s cognitive psychology is true, I choose to dwell in the subconscious. A dwelling for suppressed desires that showcase in dreams