When The Quiet Comes Poem by Vision Ghost

And the reflections pour over me, as light rain
Covering each part of me, so equally yet again
But such now, that I can be with my thoughts
Considerations rendered, into secular courts

As my mental sight, deepens to the darkness
Closing eyes to interpret, the voids of blackness
Of space unexplored or unaccustomed to this
New emotion seeping through, to never miss

Its target of being analysed, in drifting ponders
Calculated, observed in amongst casual wonders
Of the ever increasing deliberating, concentration
Never wavering from the pathways, of absolution

Freedom to be what it is, I am supposed to sell
Of myself or else my soul, to work out this hell
When pathological structures, become so mindful
Inputting interior motives, of something purposeful

Exhale to free the weight, of this sustained curve
In learning that there is still much more, to serve
Not such to always be thinking, of impending doom
But just to feed into a vase of flowers, yet to bloom

To the fullest extent, then worry about what’s next
Play over the arpeggio, of my life so far perplexed
Hearing it back again, to the broadened imagination
Hold within my hand, such powerful comprehension

Desperate for a release of this, so I can keep running
To the very height of my mountain, so intimidating
And shout out from the summit, my meaning in life
Unless cut down by fortune, fate and karmas knife

But I am here now, and everything is so very still
Freed from this cramping, of untimely social will
Alone and best satisfied, from any exterior opinion
That threatens the outcome, of any chance in a million

As such moments so fragile, lost in time and history
Lest I forget somehow, that I can’t answer this mystery
But I could die trying to get, as close as I can to answer
To the origins of my thoughts against human endeavour