The Seer

We dance to the rhythm of dreams
Different in scheme
Stuck between the real and
Reality
Speak truth through fatality
Immortality
Casually saddening
Finality
We behold the pale horse
And
Evade remorse
As the perceptions of the day
Become acquainted in dreams
Fade into the scenes, I
Try not to cry, I
Hit the ground twice
But can’t not see
We ask not, want not
God pours through We
Stay in dimensional limbo
He did this to me
Weeds finish through me
As a nightmare escapes
I dare awake, and
Write where its fate
Has a light fair gait
Born of grizzly pate
Through the dungeons and purgatory
Fights dared in hate
We are the prophets of heart
Emotions abound
Those are the sounds
Of the hope filled abound.
I write because my heart
Is compelled by it.
I can’t stop.
My thoughts are repelled my it.
I see, feel, hear, taste
And smell by it.
Perceive the world with my pen,
Escape cells by it.
Stand in the fellowship of men
And fair angels in bloom
Angles of whom create
Infinite space in a room
Of antiquity
Time is here, no past or future
That’s the route through which the soul
Must pass to suit the
Needs of understanding
Demanding sometimes on man
The
Capacity to finally see his dreams.
I remember night scapes
When I awake and I relate
To try and make the night awake
And denial fly away.
We as poets owe a duty to the world of readers
Future seers borne through our words as breeders
We’re the
Way the heart is heard or seen
Worst can be the loss of heart’s purity
We’re the soldiers in the night
Bearing boulders of light
On Shoulders of might
With the Onus to write
Verbal Onanism
Sinful if we spill forth our wisdom
Never to be read, never to be heard or forgiven
Speak, fair poet, youthful muses and scribes
You can ignite your youthfulness through truthful delight.
Shout down, vintage sage. Speak once through your eyes
Give us the might of wisdom from your decades of site.
This is the right and true path of the poet and seer
Who holds a power and a burden through the purpose so clear.