The road is littered with the remnants of my memories.
I cannot shave off this beard of bland revelation.
The body of the master shivers with uncertainty and angst.
Bread had fallen on my brow in winter yet I did not eat.
The great abyssal yawns before me as I yawn.
Books speak to me in great excitement, then I forget them.
The mother of the master was cold and angry he is cold and angry.
A grain of sand falls through the hourglass opening…so what?
The stomach of the master suffers with him.
I saw that what was supposed to be a soul was a cinder block.
The future holds much food, but I feast on worry.
I saw the serpent, but it was frozen with cold blood.
The eyes of the master are blinded with too much sight.
And, I hide amid the grandest of trees a wordy harmless weed.
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Compelling title, awesome ending and everything in between is of high caliber. Why 14 if I may ask?
Anyway, it is indeed a therapeutical piece of work. Thanks for sharing.
Ha! Thank you…when I was finished I counted 14 stanzas. :0)