The Pointless Word
I am writing this with a purpose of none
My pen is bears the ink of my creative word.
Boundaries that confine in are confined to my mind.
In this work flows the blood of my mind’s creative conscience,
The soul of the essence of my being and the ink of my pen.
Shaping shapeless sentences soundly certainly seems simple;
However in work that in art conforms, conforms to the non-conforming conformists.
Thus the justice of immorality has lost the lust of injustice.
Spewing words, liberating thoughts and emotions is indeed liberating.
My pen doth not run dry and hence my thoughts shall continue,
My pool of creativity shall need be a lake.
In these words, who I am is explicitly illustrated;
Who I was, who I am and who I am destined to be.
Formless thought form formless sentences form poetry of amazing form.
Who knew this fact true?
Who knew this truth fact?
How does one conclude something that has neither a start nor end?
One must continue for one’s pen is still full
and thus shall the pen continue to write these thoughts through me,
in ways beyond my comprehension.
Rhymes that do not rhyme, in a world upside down, where one stands up straight
This is my world!
In a world that is mine writing the right or the wrong
for the sake of the wrong or the right is of no relevance.
Life, Death, Happiness, Sadness, Likes, Dislikes, Poems and Novels,
Find no home near my Lake,
for to my best ability my sanctuary keep pure,
because only from purity doth true beauty emerge!