#mk ranz

Day xerox

Up and away

Somber pinks and tyrannical blues are littered with noisy white

As the sun set and orange embossed horizon, leaving purple high

The narrow field of pink, blue, and some white chrysanthemums glowed

And before, the end of night; here after

The glow of white fashioned in moons presence

The narrow field grew and standing tall, sun flower to sun;

The chrsanthemums grew

Season starts and her temper let's be known

The freshest start aches forward as if archer and arrow, spring brings the coming sun

Her heat is letting know that arrow flying will lose steam, as she goes so too do the joyous flore bloom,

The fall of such a joyous start is only leading where arrow falls, autumn introduces her end,

And so have we seen that only in ending can any start be realized.

Well on that day where enough toxins plummeted the good nature of nature's work, I found forever isn't just a memory to those we'd have left behind.

I was at a doorway, a white doorway with a white frame. There were no distinguishable markings

There were no indications to where it lead

After what seemed like moments of hesitation, I found the courage to open said door, and there, the most daunting sunset greeted me through plane glass window.

Residing over the beach, I had come to the realization that heaven was real, my years spent pondering the whimsyness of all after end had been presented:

The most beautiful room, residing over the most beautiful beach, staring forever at the most beautiful sunset....

What has no end; I realized, stagnation...

i saw the lights through the cracks

similarly, littered specks of crumbs layered in the crevasses of my fat; over the shirt,

imagination lets me see like superman.

Unlike the leftover mess

these lights, were not- or were, by design.

hues of orange

candle flame

road ways

awake and asleep and wake

an ebb of flow -

on mind the wonder not working like supervision but of what is to come

how does the break from darkness only remind of...

of-

Late night drives my super vision is traded for conversations i have wished for, sometimes with people of the real world,

sometimes with the friends from the dark,

Other nights instead,

by design: not trying to stay up, these imaginations fester to the wake of the orange hues.

unlike the crumbs and the reprieve from a world comforting

those little words repeat ever so frienldy,

unlike

unlike

unlike,

" HEY! I got a B on my test'

' Your cousin got an A''

unalike ruled the majority of what i cant tell was real

Are you like the roadways helping us move to new destinations,

or the machinations of the depravity that lurks from the lights reprieve.

Looking back through the mirror,

A vain smile left. Nourishing a look of embalmment.

For no man has had this treasure before

Of course; excluding the gaze of passerby.

-- however, all the glitters' is not gold.

And with such realization man looks to the stars.

And in admission to a creator or the universe itself.

The sun bathing, beating the drums of liberation

One piece of a man has been split.

And the haunting from what was once only possible by river or pond or lake...

Man has become two.

The man and the shadow.

Now and forever more-

We shall be united as one. Giving breaks half day.

Upon an evening sky, just as the harsh sun rays die for the time being.

" love-

Happiness-

Trust

beguilement"

Ive wondered if the beauty of such roses may ever be felt without the thorns that protect it.