...And Another Thing

Burrow a hole in the clouds.
Hidden rabbit smelled by the hounds.
Hoping to never be found.
Forming in cotton white.

To gouge my eyes out and throw them to the future.
Inspiration from what cannot be known.

My tongue, it tastes so sweet.
Forming steps to greet.
Destination on sore feet.
Storming throughout the night.

The aftermath is quite poetic.
Artistry emerged from hectic.
Buried past now erected.
What a statuesque find.

To ground my sight now, bestowed unto the doer.
In persuasion from what has not been shown.

I have only defeated myself.
Fighting for my mental wealth.
Acknowledging what i have felt.
Rabbit fur, soft as clouds, in the sky.