Adrift

Tis strange, this recurring bout of melancholy renders spirit low malcontent far from jolly. Adrift, adrift, upon.... Sargasso Sea. Tis strange, this monstrous, recurring, bout signaling, momentous melancholy. Renders suppressed spirit, low; marginalized malcontent. Far removed from thoughtless, singular; jubilant jocular jolly. Adrift adrift upon an ardent sea. Conditions of time peace of mind creative mood must be mystic met. Stilled turbulent thought untuned. Emotive impalpable impassioned before. First freeborn stroke structures definitive pen. If aware of what wondrous thoughts run raging within activated mind. Firing shock waves that hammer convulsively throughout electrified cells. Imprisoned encased in vortex personified. In grey ordered sentient cells. Then would be reality known. How great is ultimate failing? How vast gulf between gutted creation? That which! Was frugally bought forth. Into exasperated existence! Given decimated reality! Unbounded quality bordering inseminated being. Languid failed apprehended conception. Remains a languishing unbridged unspannable cavern. Ruins attest heightened inspiring lines. Drained tumbling meaning. Forfeit fallen Godlike state. Sextant sighted charted course adrift, alost, in perpetuity, among horizon-less, emerald, shattered waters. Golden light glazed globules impenetrable. Reflection off glassy gloss embossed sea. Permeate imbue with dross. Heightened expression is lost. Stale air stale thought no thought nothing wrought. Means no integration disintegration. Begun of all we bought through centuries timeless wrought. For every flower to raise symmetrical, petaled head toward seasoning sun. A thousand aspire expire raise withered grow in vain. Copyright © Terence George Craddock