To always in this day, in was smiles with glee, with no fear of what could have been, seeing as it always be. Chances of be, lack in seen, vastly in by of a lie that never in so become. Mesh on the walls, displace on those before, find of memory those be only unwritten past only for one to know. Knew by on that is.
Chances in be that only so? Come on so, on lie, on high rises that as be. Â Shadows only being the friend and foe in passing nights and they rest at day. Branches of trees, fingers they be bony oh so, gliding the glass with a tiny, creak that bleed ears, but only to the hearing. As over, too over played, pleaded to eyes of fiction sights to follow and rest in be . . . for how long, only for the eyes to know when the light flicked off.
Lie in cold, rest in layers of soft flesh, which was ribbons bows that played about the ground, ratted and bleak only to be a tone color. Sweat in bear that falls from the walls. Swallow calls of an echo that only, and be only, a whimper a child, having a bad dream.
Careful in choice: to never listen to the shadow treeâ€™s fingers, as they send fables of what, only to what they may be; only those found in the backyard know. Out farther than what the ground holds, follow ways out, come by the docks, and look only straight ahead.
Dare a fool of any to glance until the end, be the reason to go, became short lived. When seeing the dock ends, donâ€™t look behind, for the land is not there in sight, just lost in a fog, a fog, the eyes made to lie. Just like everything else.
So lost now, you become wet. Why in so? Oh in so, of this let it? Be it as this, the dock is gone, and only the sea is there. Taking away flesh in ribbons . . . was having the clones of treeâ€™s siblingsâ€™ drag away.
A fated pain is marked on the back. In saying the one dared to walk the dock, was never alone, but also never wanted. Of who felled in, the blind wander or the dreadful pusher, is never known. As there was only two there, but unlikely the one of two came back.
Bloody in so memory of now, of how a story like this could be real? Come along, and maybe weâ€™ll solve the question together. Are you up for stroll that seems to ever end? With a person you just met?
The last one didnâ€™t mind.