(Original picture derived from Google)
Ingeniously wrapped, with continuous length.
It’s awesomely predominant within its existence.
“Like the stuff, myths are made of.”
Attached to the brain, of one so pained,
As the proverbial strain, leads
Into a new & reawakening Soul.
Past residuals, fell in brief snippets.
Soft, coiled pellets,
Dissolving within the dust-balled, flames of time.
Beautifully existing externally,
While the internal makings,
Were molded & lint-filled, with the gray ooze of toxic energies.
Premeditated conditions leading to,
a festering of distractions,
Damaging their Universal Flow & stifling their STRENGTH!
Layering the Universal carpet,
Cut from its roots of nothingness,
To burn within its own hell.
Rising from the flamed-dressed ashes,
Cleansed, Pristine, Flamingly-REBORN.
With a new “KNOWLEDGE OF SELF” & an ever-blazing “LIFE FORCE”…
*There are times when we have to remind ourselves who we are.
© Maxwanette A Poetess, All Rights Reserved.