Passanger

 
     
Rotisserie     
     
Spindle     
     
Take me back to when the ashes of my transgression were merely vulnerable dry kindling      
     
     
Rosaries     
     
Spin eerie     
     
From the motion of a cool twirling finger      
 
 
 
Fiddling on a thing with dwindling strings  
     
     
I wish to travel counter clock wise     
     
Blow to smithereens these linear silver river streams     
     
Forging a new dimension with each quantum stride    
     
     
Forever humbled by the abundant blessings of my existence     
     
Though ambitions by their very nature brim with audacity     
     
The spirit boldly imagining       
     
     
Cannot help but feel     
     
A cocoon waiting to butterfly     
     
My limitations elastic stretched with such tension it will soon serrate into a severing tear      
     
     
A sentient of a pure light     
     
Ready to spill into true form     
     
Escaping the vessel of an illusion