No Reencarnation

[bootsiesthebomb]

When the storm clears,
Look fast to the east.
Take me in,
I am there.

Through the dissipating clouds,
Spy me atop a plaesant knoll,
My head full of Dharman
My heart full of sin.

Knick-knacks and trinkets,
A fortress around confusion,
Drinking her blue eyes,
Sheltering myself under her stringy blonde hair.

She wants nothing from me.

She doesn't matter.

Lost in her ephemeral suck.
Stuck.
Keeper of Luther's luck.

She doesn't matter.

Another stanza of appetry,
Another doapy verse.
She doesn't matter.

And the storm doth she drive,
O'er me,
And on,
Another rotation anticipating.
But on this one,
I leave.

I have found my way.