wherever i go (cave voice)

calling softly

from a cave

i repeat my own inconsistencies

in private splendor

as it should be

violence comes a calling

simple and beautiful

thing of oneness

at the entrance to rock


it repeats the method

and I am swaying in blurry

dizzy gray spinning haze

at the very voice of it

now curling in reduction

I retreat from it now

losing interest goes away

right on the tail is apathy’s daughters

like sweet muses waiting

and tempting fate

About jaybeasley2

a writer, a painter, a poet, a wordsmith
This entry was posted in peace, poem, poems, poetry, temperature and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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