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| picture credit: http://www.deviantart.com/art/The-Storm-99816059 |
It’s the fool of a Joker playing havoc in my head,
pouring prompts and propositions
in a never-ending flow, into the path that I now trail down,
where foolishness take’s a firm hold,
opens wide the windows in a lighthouse,
during a tempest,
whose pulse gradually weakens,
as wantonness captures me
and we fly with the churning clouds.
The thoughts of our mind can soemtimes modify us in an unexpected way....
ReplyDelete...we fly with the churning clouds.
ReplyDeleteThat resonates...very nice!
This is deep and very thoughtful... I think we are all here from time to time in our lives ♡
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for dropping by my blog and commenting xox
Now tell me am I your joker or your lighthouse ? . . .
ReplyDeleteLovely action packed poem with lots of waves . . . :)
Mine, too.
ReplyDelete