are forever lost upon the sail cloths of the ocean floor
and within that moment that lie trust becomes
ambiguity, The dubiety, of all forward thought. we
wrestle within the winds of incertitude,
we grovel upon the rocks of impending doom We
sow the seeds of Sorrow and in the end, we hang
ourselves upon the cross of the gallows
So Be ever so careful of the flowers the shrubbery
we choose to feast upon, for some seeds that we
feast upon, plant the seeds of a never tomorrow.
Memoirs from a mad mind written by Sean Thomas Runyon
(c) 2018 art photography & poem Sean Thomas Runyan
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