Attic of the Mind

 



If love conquers summits, then what of the sea?
How can devotion prove the powers that be?
It’s just a statement, and a liquid resolve
fleeting for nowhere, in attempts to dissolve.
What’s an oasis in a deserted heart?
What motivation’s calling back from the start?
Matter regression is a joy to observe;
dust into ashes and the embers preserved.
Money for movement is a crippling treat
for all the misers, who would covet their feet.
If love conquers summits, then what of the sea?
How can devotion prove the powers that be?

It’s just a statement, and a liquid resolve
fleeting for nowhere in attempts to dissolve.
What is a mission when it never succeeds?
Is it a failure with the will to proceed?
Candy is promise, as to sweeten the deal
with devil designs that will never repeal.
Talent for soldiers, as they’re verbal in war,
words are their ammo, and their souls to the core.
It’s never the end when you still see the sky
blue as a puzzle to the dizzying eye.
If love conquers summits, then what of the sea?
How can devotion prove the powers that be?

What’s an oasis in a deserted heart?
What motivation’s calling back from the start?
Time is a nuisance when you shuffle through junk,
vanity christens every ship to be sunk.
Mind in the attic, and instead of a ditch
sheltered in cartons, so it buries the rich.
What is a message when it doesn’t make sense?
Is it so funny, at the thinker’s expense?
What’s never learned in approximate thought
is only to gain every answer you sought.
If love conquers summits, then what of the sea?
How can devotion prove the powers that be?