All the matter in a world that couldn’t fill it’s contours quite like an intoxication,
It’s silent premise of mere sense as a cause to contain in itself an equilubrium,
Keeps out of reach, a perfect solution, reasons to reconfigure practice as owned,

Not to leave the shelter shut, or shadows cast just might entertain possibilities,
To serve in haste the thirst that’s quenched either ways from now until emptiness,
Satisfy an expanding brim when it sets forth to colder ends in all certainty of control,

Every measure of this, each note beating to a flame that floats across the edges of curiosity,
Claiming for penance a freedom set to start again over horizons left of a trained eye’s beyond,
Speaks for all else when moments are fulfilled in a time that keeps tune through a surface tensed,

A statement of monstrous purpose deems the void worthy of resonance within this scuttle unknown,
Mildly conflicted by any absolutes aimed out of sight to behold as beautiful is to undivided coherence,
In ways of a sky lantern shedding light to capricious lives which engage with the seasons as they thrive.