From the icy mountain top, look:
Surrounded by this insane sea of purple.
Sweet, violent waves of violet.
Where the poetry swims
In this orchid-colored flowing ink
From this here very tip of my pen.
And a long time ago
We could have been weapons
For we can aim and carve anything
A cleverly crafted dagger
Plunged into the thin soft pages,
Taking life in an instant
Making life, not breaking it
Rather rephrasing it
Carefully removing the unneeded clay.
We can dive into these waters
And let the lavender waves take us for a ride
While we just sail along.
Yeah, just accept the lyrical nonsense
As nothing more than a narrative
I’ll narrate while you contemplate
While others underestimate
Underneath it all
I know you’ll reevaluate
For if you assume with expectations
Remember that you must have
And despite the intensity
Of the life-claiming storm
This madness means we are reborn.