deepundergroundpoetry.com
Introspectic Waters
Here we go,
stream of consciousness,
a flow, a pattern, a tune played is thought,
to avoid the ego is a vanity of altruism,
accomplishment born to oneself in unrecognizability,
yet to be absorbed is a lonesome and cold state,
unflattering microscopics when the macroscopic dwindles,
levelled scales an unachievable dream,
for perfection is unachievable,
we lonely sailors all,
guiding this ship we call home,
listening for the voice of the ocean,
to guide us as we float.
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