The Exotic Ramble

The infinite is so fleeting when you're reading Laurence Keating
The heavens are so small when you fall to the call of the eternal heart beating
The pressure of a diamond is never ever better than the force of your love
To measure the pleasure of patience when it comes from above
You must trust that time does not rust when under cold water
never bother the father, the hand in the glove.
My lifestyle is wild, crazy lazy and fast
Laboring daily, maybe, baby, I'm attached to my past
Never say never, its better to be brave than a slave to the written word
Embrace the absurd, its not as good speaking as it is to be heard.
Am I drowning, frowning, crowning, browning in the primordial soup
captured in the kingdom of proverbial poop?
I'm sunk, a young punk, stuck in the funk of words that are weaved
bereaved, peeved, pulling my sleeve, the fact that I was deceived
by an amalgam of poetic verse, what’s worse, from birth or when I was conceived.
So here I am, a man, one plan, to tear apart the verbiage of purposeful logic
Not apologetic, about anything tragic or magic, without being astrologic.
I appreciate the weight of water over my head. 
The casting of counter-spells to conjure up the dead. 
The weary are wearing red-herring underwear
But beware, I care to share strories about the snare in my hair
Anyway, today is anew, another empty point of view from me to you, 
abstract articles articulated, many, not few, accrued at the zoo 
of mine monstrous mind, now blind, cant find more words that rhyme 
so I'm done but I hope you've had fun.