Skylines Of Intellect

Rasping against heartstrings of life, stretched beyond an endurance of inner strength, tugging and pulling elastically into outer parts of yesterday's mires. Dug deeply into sides of mountains, left open to benefit the owners as they mine the little bit of gold that they will end up finding. Having no where to come or go, just traipsing slowly through life, not knowing which direction to go. Moving solitarily in and out of fantasy, pulling it's cloak ever closer and tighter. Knowing that there are so many ideas filtering into a mind, letting them come together from deep within abysses and labyrinths. So settled and penetrating, giving every effort to stations of every day plights. Never knowing to what extent ending pieces will fit in, sliding, slipping, striding into ravines left over from yesterday's climbs from emotional turmoil. Benefitting interior solace of being, sifting and playing the intensity of rhythms, focusing closely into beauty of another pilgrimage and into landscapes of a sunrise, alighting on edges of midnight. Never faltering through skylines of intellect, forming barriers to cling to in stairways of tomorrow, becoming at last, the ones to carry me to the end of life. No wonder left behind in catacombs of ancient qualities, now deadened by alternatives of never-ending definitions and meanings, waiting for sensations of every sense in being. Calling forth ends of another desert plain, falling into incessant rhythms never to be let go of again, while living in an expired realm of yesterday. Moving always steady, never parting from the existence that has been given to me alone, perfecting it daily through rhythm and poetry, taking me down this everlasting pathway of eternity forever.