Mx. Universe (The Transcendental)

Feathers pulled back by the wind,

Slight resistance builds strength,

Slowly and with mastery,

The body does glide,

Across the clouded sky.


Waking up, the sight of new dawn,

First light dashes through a dimly lit room,

Four walls, with darkness tugging at corners.


Great despair is only known to those,

Who, having tasted the stratosphere,

Are forced to retreat,

With haste-

Into the prison of the mind,

And fed the remembrance of a fragment of bliss.


Ever clear,

Never near...

|Ψ⟩

Reviews

[John the Baptist]

The last stanzas here are especially powerful. If one has truly tasted bliss, could something less ever be anything but depressing? A lot to think on here. Well done.