Concussive forces
threaten the
sanctity of sanity.
A calamity of worlds –
colliding with
parallel universes –
giving birth to
terse dispersals
that
reek of rehearsals
of the unspoken.
Gravitational pulls
of what is,
but can’t be –
tendered to the sacrilegious.
Abandoning
the woeful.
To
tread on ground
fermented by
the pungent brew –
that utility
of
their futility.

Copyright © 2016 ShunPwrites. All Rights Reserved
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Published by Shun P. Writes
Author, Genealogist, Writer, Poet, Podcast Host, possessor of 2 cents, Blogger and eternal student of life, who harbors a firm belief in his Grandmother's mantra that:
"People need to get off of their rump and do something".
All while keeping in mind that a cheering section will often get in the way.
View all posts by Shun P. Writes