Poem. Marc Evan Aupiais...
The Path. I take. It is not less traveled.
It is not traveled, Not Ever, Not At All!
I Am All Alone, and In The Worldly Woods, Of Time And Space,
Below The Shooting Star, and The Dying Comet, Killed By Earth,
As One Once Dearly Killed, All On The Dearest Earthly compost.
And As I stare, In Starlit, Moonlit Light, And Check, My Compass Sight,
I re-orient, my orientation to my end, does shift, does slightly shift,
As I do, you alone, do, I avoid,
Dearest, Lady of Night and Sight,
Devil's own Path, would you have me step upon all alight.
Upon, this, Devil's Steps, and Devil's Creatures,
In These, Dark, Lonely, Wooded Forest.
But I re-orient, I follow a true, and different, light, Christ.
And As the wolves, do howl, and await your corpse,
I escape the worldly woods,
Which likely, are you grave,
I look upon the valley, in this safety, mountain shade.
I look upon your corpse, not just yet still.
As you push along an empty path,
Every step easy,
Into the Deepest, Deepest...
... .... DARK!
And yet, the night breeze, I sensed, it became a hurricane in the morning, my dream, in it as though truth itself, is to know that night breeze, as though in romance- to romance the mystery of the hidden truth. For I love the night breeze, which so few yet can sense.
Sunday, March 4, 2012
Orient Away, Away, And Apart
Posted by Marc Evan Aupiais at 6:38 PM
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