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Michael McGuire
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Deep Blue Horizons
Desire runs deep,
Wasteland farmers reap,
Silent trapped pain,
Softly scattered rain.
Framed in the kinetics of another generic day, The great something of the deep feasts upon its pray,
And the suffering; the undone angel of Blake,
Is delivered in rainbow's renaissance make.
My vision is buried in deep blue horizons.
Deliver me blue,
Default doctors cue,
Dreamer's soft kill,
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Starless sleeper's skill.
Unfound by the restless mechanism of fate, Spilled in a pool of potential by the mercenary pride of his mate,
The humbling bleat of desire will run the clock, And time's little thief will pick the crumb of his lock.
My sunrise eclipsed by these deep blue horizons.
In the context of a soulless driven; petty labor; whitewashed brittle-bone of a life.
I'm sanctified in deep blue horizons.
I'm glorified in deep blue horizons.
I'm nullified in deep blue horizons.
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