Rise Of That Infinity Poem by Michael Walkerjohn

Separating
time forever
an innocent and
unique view of reality
contaminating memories
and spiraling within the illogical
notions of logic without a connection
to death's flattering, influential outlook
towards other such ambitions crashing
through, the individuality of living
a tragedy in everything positive
and in all other negativity as
silence, influences the
wanderings of one's
self-pity, endlessly
folding the fleshy
throne of a life's
disease and demise
within the lost insane
and invisible tangibility, of
everything, anything; an only
thing dragging the chains, of a
Reaper purging and transforming
one's decisions by propositions, in the
acquisitions, of exposing discrepancies
that flower, into that blasphemy devoted
to rule over, and control emotions; soaking
breath from mind and counting repeatedly
the guilt's that betray that mind inside the
panic, of remembering the secretive and
corroded sequencing language of doubt.
Leaking everything, and reaching for
the shadows, of the enhancing
space of excesses and solutions.
Critical of this pattern, unwinding deep
within the blooming of thought and heart
in a process of a manipulative prostitution, or
in that romantic dream exposing, presentations
of exotic indecency, from that hostile mounting of
such the raving beauty upon, the upheaval of an
opening grave; this, such a worthy wickedness
explained away in the reaping, of what is so
sown, and where it is sown, and within
whom, it is sown; thus creating the
impending rise of that infinity.