Upon the orange blossomAs buildings do fall

Their burning death release

Old habits in their wake

For metaphor does know it’s dream

Equates to hidden power

A remembering of old connect

Screams mourn end of reign

Shaking as babe from cold birth

Immunized from plentiful virus

Underground way permitted

Cleansed of wretched hold on desire

To claim address in shattering walls

Terrifying and exuberating 

The travel to lands unseen

Accompanied with friendly travelers 

And blood of own pristine 

Adventure calls the open hearted

Terror but an open door

Leading onto guided path

Relaxing into train of splendor

Giving up steering

Driving no more


*Artist of painting unknown

Words my own.

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