Let it be you;
make me immortal.
Remember some pattern,
a flash now and then
to exhume any truth.
Here
trying to capture
transient bits
of so many souls.
Him me you:
the harshest critics.
Words;
in pieces they would be,
fluttered and strewn
amongst other debris.
"One man's Junk",
so they always say;
transformed
most hopefully
outside these mere borders
through collective ether
that we all succor.
make me immortal.
Remember some pattern,
a flash now and then
to exhume any truth.
Here
trying to capture
transient bits
of so many souls.
Him me you:
the harshest critics.
Words;
in pieces they would be,
fluttered and strewn
amongst other debris.
"One man's Junk",
so they always say;
transformed
most hopefully
outside these mere borders
through collective ether
that we all succor.