THE END

THE FISH IN THE POND

FEROCIOUS

AND HARMLESS

PURE OF HEART

IS PUNISHED BY ITS OWN 

OBLIVION

BUT PLEADING 

IT SHALL NOT

FOR EVEN IF 

IT SHOULD BLEED

NOT AS A BEGGAR

IT WOULD HAVE BLED

ALIVE ALBEIT AN ASSASINATION

A SCENTLESS FLOWER 

MAKES NO SENSE

FOR IT

A TIME OF DEATH UPON

THE FLOWER ROTS 

INSIDE ITSELF

CONDITIONED UTOPIA

MY MOTHER STANDS UNDER THE UNPREDICTABLE SKY

IN HER ARMOUR; MY PROTECTION

FOREVER

SINCE BIRTH

A LOTUS BLOOMS INVERTED

FROM THE SKY

AN UMBRELLA

ABOVE WHICH

A SINGLE CLOUD REIGNS SUPREME

A SINGLE DREAM 

ONCE UNFULFILLED

EVOKES HER SUFFERING

SO MUCH SO

MY MOTHER DRENCHED

IN HER OWN TEARS

I SEE MY FACES

MANY OF WHICH I FROWN AT

LOVINGLY

AS IF NOT MY OWN ENEMY

SILENT AND STIFF

STILL AND STUBBORN

INSIDE THEM

STILL STUBBORN

A BIRD FLEES ITS NEST

AS IF IT NEVER NEEDED 

IT

I REALISE

THE WORLD IS NOT JUST BEAUTIFUL

IT IS HORRENDOUS

DUBIOUS COMPROMISES OF PITIFUL WORTHINESS

THE MAGNOLIA SUFFERS MORE THAN YOU

OR LESS THAN YOU

THAT NEEDS NOT MATTER

FOR 

SUFFERING IS NOT A COMPETITION

PERHAPS IT JUST 

SUFFERS

MORE THAN YOU COULD 

EVER IMAGINE

IT PRAYS FOR

AND THAT

IN ANOTHER LIFE

SHOULD ANOTHER LIFE BE WARRANTED

ITS LIFE MAY BE PERFECT 

AT LAST

PERHAPS THEN IT WILL KNOW 

IT NEVER EXISTED AT ALL

DOWN POOR ALMIGHTY

SHOULD EVER THE IDYLLIC OPTION 

BE OFFERED

MY CREMATION

SHOULD EVENTUATE 

INSIDE A CLOUD

MOST UTOPIAN 

UPON 

THE VASTEST PALACE

OF MY FAVOURITE HUE

WHERE THUS THEREIN

THE DEEPEST BLUE

I MIGHT EVAPORATE 

BEYOND THE REALMS 

OF 

ORDINARY REALITY

INTO 

NOTHINGNESS

I MIGHT BE FREE

DIVINE INTERVENTION

A FLOWER WILL HARVEST 

THE SUN

JUST AS THE RIVER WILL

HARVEST THE RAIN

A CHILD WILL HARVEST 

WHAT IT IS FED; A CHILD WILL HARVEST 

THE THOUGHTS OF BRAINS 

THAT FEEDS THEM

MRS. G!

IF BY FRUITION OF FATE

OR HOWSOEVER

THE REWARD IN ITSELF

IS TO BE MY GRANDMA’S GRANDSON

LATE OR OTHERWISE

IT MATTERS

SCARCELY

I WOULD BE SCARED

IF BLESSED ENOUGH

TO HUG HER NOW