Skylines Of Intellect Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Skylines Of Intellect



Rasping against heartstrings of life, stretched beyond an
endurance of inner strength, tugging and pulling elastically
into outer parts of yesterday's mires.

Dug deeply into sides of mountains, left open to benefit
the owners as they mine the little bit of gold that they
will end up finding.

Having no where to come or go, just traipsing slowly
through life, not knowing which direction to go.

Moving solitarily in and out of fantasy, pulling it's
cloak ever closer and tighter.

Knowing that there are so many ideas filtering into a mind,
letting them come together from deep within abysses and
labyrinths.

So settled and penetrating, giving every effort to stations
of every day plights.

Never knowing to what extent ending pieces will fit in,
sliding, slipping, striding into ravines left over from
yesterday's climbs from emotional turmoil.

Benefitting interior solace of being, sifting and playing
the intensity of rhythms, focusing closely into beauty of
another pilgrimage and into landscapes of a sunrise,
alighting on edges of midnight.

Never faltering through skylines of intellect, forming
barriers to cling to in stairways of tomorrow, becoming at
last, the ones to carry me to the end of life.

No wonder left behind in catacombs of ancient qualities,
now deadened by alternatives of never-ending definitions
and meanings, waiting for sensations of every sense in
being.

Calling forth ends of another desert plain, falling into
incessant rhythms never to be let go of again, while
living in an expired realm of yesterday.

Moving always steady, never parting from the existence that
has been given to me alone, perfecting it daily through
rhythm and poetry, taking me down this everlasting pathway
of eternity forever.

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