Unfamiliar Forms

Status is commatose,

I can’t focus on a noun.

Actions or description

right now are not found.

What’s of a beast I get

yet as of late I relate

to mutes and cripples

perplexed in my place.

I’ll spin no new glass,

I feel heat in my hands.

Slip from my fingers

do concepts as if sand.

Do not allow me exude

any words to craft views

of which I understand

what is now to be true.

I refuse to play a God

on this day in the night.

For the wrong or right

I don’t feel much fight.

Tired are the limbs in

my vessel I as if a tree

in the fall I now shed

dead discolored leaves.

I see you alone stunned

are budding linguistics.

I feel a blissful ignorance

but warmth so simplistic.

Your form births from

substances formless fluid.

For you’re the only thing

consuming my mind’s id.

What shall I do forcing

movement in this spot

when after eyes saw you

I became what I’m not?

Reason is malfunctioned,

art does not flow so wide

here where it dissapears

I’ll try and heal the divide.

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