#freeword

Start with a line straight down to the center of halfway. I'm not sure it matters the order unless you want it to. Then choose your circle carefully. One wrong move and it's no longer a circle. If you want to burn fire, make sure your heart knows to stand it. And deliver from there, all intent to be known. A careful fact, a truth in form, like blood can set a world apart. If you move and it's sideways, cut the line and go solo fast. And any noise in the darkness, let it betray itself if not unknown. Sticks snap and voices don't always charm. Mark your door when you know it. No intention is good intention. And leave a feather in a place of worth, with all the others, pretty or red. Continue down the line and cut. Blue skies wet, and mud. The irresistible urge, the craving. The wind steps in and I try again. Is it better to do nothing with nothing to claim? I'm unsure and don't agree. And when I take it away I'll replace it with pure meaning, beware. Rocks and second hands, fake silver and jagged edges. You can't tell me no. Just don't pick it up unless you're willing to take the chance. I'll never touch it. But if it touches me it's fine and done. I plan the opposite, faults cannot align. And so it goes among the mangers past, we sleep in dreams alive. Until each moment comes to take us, and we shall see where it leads. Eventually, no ghost arises, no creature false in mind, a fairytale made, unclaimed. I died in a maze, now awake and amaze. Oh sweet fate, a name erased. Oh such to take, marry forth no king, climb down the falling walls. May it lead to beauty unsecured, dashed, to higher days among such disaster, until we reach the shore and dream, no monster waits to take us, and where but home. Like stars heavy fame soaked, drunken slander all the same. I choose carefully. Sticks snap. Take under. And down we all go. In the killing fields so we can reap. Foster the rule, kicking the game, light as a fuse, mustering forth our units. When I came down, I held two knives, one bigger in my right hand. Symmetry poised, stick snaps. I did quite well, you see that? "Nothing." It was necessary, even among those not to know. No disrespect. Nor assuming any guilt, we poise and ponder the chasm where they sit to smoke like me. Wield the weapon, stones like me, I hear it now, like now, and now again. This time beware the thunder. For storms in all places, know everything. Only to be what they are. A promise, half made, and kept. Surrender, to be advised. The flies gather and steep their small survival against the storm on my skin. My hands don't stop them. But now I go inside and under. Until the rain kept, becomes my storm. The sky lights up first, as the lightning comes and the thunder calls to it. If it hits again, run. It always falls perfect. And I'm not quite done yet, say the fates. Sticks snap, but I stand in my doorway, waiting. I hope I hear the thunder. I hope it breathes lightning. I hope it falls heavy as not to distract. I have no purpose, and plenty of work to do. Let's try a little harder. Commits the wind, "Thank you" and I mean it, as it does as I suggest. We'll find out soon enough, but I have my faith regardless. And it has never disappointed, only ever out of reach. When it comes to you don't let it in.