A Poem about the calling of life itself and not to ignore it.
The sound of aberration.
Reaching the plain of a descending storm.
So unique in ways,
atmospherical in all of its form.
The mania of our nights breath of fresh doctored air.
The moisture deep,
within our soil of despair.
Don’t you hear the tears of ancient remorse?
Despite their long lost prayers.
Avenues so sacred,
buried beneath our very own feet.
I feel the pressure.
Don’t you?
Passing through manufactured vents of relief.
Lest we forget our internal fire.
Burning down trivial forests,
we enslave, each oak by oak.
Discomforting ocean.
watered-down truths,
and piercing throats.
Clouds divine,
as ancestors alike.
Too immense to survive,
but tremendous in size.
Abandoned slash petrified.
Thoughts condemn oneself
of digging through bones.
Trapped daringly inside,
a traumatized but magical mind of one's own
We are but given a blessing in disguise,
a craving to feel inspired.
Holding on to our dear life,
Yet it can all be over,
within a blink of an eye.
Heres a list of my other Poems on Medium.
Help me reach a 100 Followers on here too.
Thank you for reading and for your support.
— Liam Back
