"Tracks"

Once more faced
With the winding in the tracks
The familiar facial tic erupts
Sending spasmodic waves
To my inner senses
There it is housed
In gravure like synthesis
Emotions abruptly appear
Causing a delving into their abode
Like the opening of a mausoleum
Dust filled and forgotten
Newly dug graves only remembered
Until the generation passes
Plucked flowers are meaningless
They are better left to grow
Passing on to others to maintain
The purpose of why all things exist
All efforts lead back to incongruity
At the end of the journey
Realization finally becomes all encompassing
Variance against the origins of creation is inevitable
It follows me down the winding tracks

~Moses~
© 2009 Moses Lestz - All Rights Reserved