These lines are following somewhere
Where others, to be fair, should be;
I managed to get things quite altered,
You won't see the things might be seen;
As them lines are crossing the ceiling,
The floor, dismantelling all,
My vision from blur starts clearing,
My mind stops to crave and to crawl,
Attention, to it's extension
Itself finds no more against,
Held to the wrist and the waist,
The crucifi-casional wall.
Though matter of lines is transparent,
You find it as here, so as there,
Amusingly, how it's inherent
For you as this matter's birth-parent
Keep focused your frantical stare.
And since they appeared, they are moving,
Stepped to sinusoidal state,
My mind they're constantly fooling
Yet don't they decide it's own fate.
These lines henceforth are growing,
Fulfilling the empty of space,
I find them a little annoyng;
Well is it but not my disgrace?
Allign ment
© Copyright: Вик Александрийский, 2022
Свидетельство о публикации №122013000275
Свидетельство о публикации №122013000275
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