When the final gorge has settled,
beyond the pale blue entrance of mettle petals,
I confine the world, and demand retribution;
sitting here alone, in this morbid sense of illusion.
Without much to gain, fathomed,
I become unnatural and gratefully pleased,
but as the building passes over head,
the sunrise reflects its glorious venue!
The windows of the building,
long and bulked,
travel with the sunshine,
burden over the Sunrise over Autumn.
I speak away, saying,
“Whose memories belong to me,
belong to the child endured and trapped here within me?
Come away, come forwards,
monster of the long working hours;
And still I sit there,
postured in cold wind,
winter beginning to fathom against the trained system,
and here, belonging to me, travels an individual
Surmise, surmise, sunrise---
For I am allowed to venture forwards,
without nameless rounds to compromise
thoughtless boundaries forever forgotten through the eyes!”
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