Another one from a fallen notepad I discovered at the back of several books in my wardrobe. It had only five poems in it and the rest were blank.
The last line of reality.
I want to be beneath the last line of reality.
I want to see the beauty in all form of deformity.
I want to hear the whisper of mother nature’s wish.
Is it so unusual to want to live in bliss?
A bliss that’s mine, that I create.
I am your world I seal your fate.
I demonstrate with bleeding crows how I’m alive that fireball glows.
When it’s quiet I have bled and every single one is dead.
All the animals and the people merely ash and now my equal.
I’ve become what I wanted to see.
“The last line of reality”
© G.P Williamson 2017