The Build-Up (a poem)

I’m not in the place of my heart
Heralded as a platform for start,
If I could slip into nature’s basement
Beating snippets of nuance from waves
Wired through prisms in constructions
I would peel away the complexities
Live only for then in such prison
Perpetuating my cycle of satisfaction
And claim times with the sources
That offer reflections of love lighted
Labelled with religious durability
Running towards every weather
Without needing to see a soul ever.

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