I sit here
unmoved,
heart making room
for the beauty
of the blast.
Devastation
in slow motion.
The window slips,
revealing bitterness,
leaking bright sunbeams
like liquid dreams,
and I witness
the very instant
of the end.
Day burns the world,
darker,
blacker,
presenting a deadness
for that which we lack.
All is crisp
and motionless.
Theres no such thing
as going back.
"Beauty of the Blast" flows on from a teleological fountain to an ontological sea to convey its philosophic-poetical message through the waves of its shores and foam of imagery.
She was quite capable of taking care of herself...She appreciated everything he was doing for her and the Grandmothers Four, but she needed his help, not for him to take over.
There is no mystery on this journey to hell. You are witness to the crimes dealing out the death sentences... each justified by one of the seven deadly sins.
Enter a glamorous world controlled by one of San Francisco's ultra-wealthy socialites an
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enjoyed!!
"Beauty of the Blast" flows on from a teleological fountain to an ontological sea to convey its philosophic-poetical message through the waves of its shores and foam of imagery.
Andre Emmanuel Bendavi ben-YEHU