My Third Eye

Italics breathe new life into the read.

Prying open my third eye

I witness the relentless pursuit of self, which fails to cease and desist

It slows only for the sun and sky, which join in a lovers chase

I hear the pulse of the city, blaring in protest across the horizon

My ears quiver from Mother Earth’s voice; all her joys and her pains, they are but fleeting

I smell the heat, as it hangs heavy and thick, streaming forth from the sweltering eye of the world and it beats down on my back, draining me

The flavor of the day ruins my taste buds for its taste is much too sweet to be true

I taste The freedom

It lingers and I acquiesce to its power

I feel full of purpose and vigor; my vitality is only as limited as my sight

But my eyes deceive me

in reaching out, my arms falter and I fall short

the taste is no longer so sweet

Why do such sour grapes taunt me?

Yet in this state I feel alive

Again I try and my boundary, it greets me with feigned sorrow

I sit idly by; my fortress warning me to go no further; you see it enjoys my company

Prying open my third eye I will witness the relentless pursuit of self which makes its return home

So I lay in wait, the moon nearly ready to do her dance and beckon the spirit of dawn

Just long enough for my Withered Eye to come full circle

and for the pursuit to begin

once more