Sleeping on pillows while I creep beneath the sinkholes.
Alternate realities peeped through pin holes.
Found myself beyond my mentality which was once sinful.
Now my reality is both depressed and blissful.
Clear my visual, Life is complicated but simple.
Who’s to judge who’s insane, sane or mental.
I myself am only as graceful as my pencil.
Follow my minds direction, traced through imaginary stencils.
If this life is real, who provides its credentials?
It’s evidential that it’s indeed special but apparent it’s only but a rental.
No extension offered at the end…Sentimental!
Are we merely experimental, Accidental?
The big question… Intention, Divine Intervention?
The answer is written within your minds perception.
One Five Nine
Two six five three five
Spiral of life keeps us alive.
Winds upon my Pillow
Danced the winds upon my window
Music played to a different tune
Shattered glass rests upon my pillow
my time has come to face my doom
Panic! Sets my heart in a race
Hand on chest with my sweaty palm
Begin feeling faint and flushed in face
so hard to remain so relaxed and calm
Is this real and why happen now
God please no, for it’s not my time
Say goodbye or leave an unspoken vow
I come to realize this life is not mine
Butterflies and clear skies await
It was written but I know not my fate
- Poems by @Ockbud Art by Sergio Odeith