Why do we go blaming someone else
When we can't justify ourselves?

An old soul walked crooked in the eleventh hour/ Through elaborate darkness shocked by luminous street lights

On groundless cement tied to city scapes/Containing opitomies of epiphanies and hollow souls weeping away into subtle decay

He dreamed as he walked in many shades of future days/ His imagination swirling and returning back to suppression suffocating in reality

He looked down to see a pigeon with lost wings as tears rained from the topsides of the skies

He moved past to see the nations flag ablaze falling from a rooftop upon a wanderer collecting broken glass bottles

Looking onward to story of glory morphed scorched torching to pure thought forcing himself into his own core

He walked with closed eyelids forging perfected pictures performing magic swarming to higher energy centers, inspired to connect to every body's heart pulsing

Looked up and saw a woman falling from a high height free of fright he flew forth to free her fall finding his arms holding her beautiful black hair wide eyes for tears to cry onto her painless body

She leaped up and disappeared into a hidden realm as he hurled cold cries that echoed through empty buildings shattering windows

He jumped running through the heart of a thoughtless city seeing all hues all colors spectrums moving all around him

Lights turned to rainbow reflection shining on the glimmering darkness of the streets

He bumped into a man who hopped frantic with a cardboard slab that read "Love Is Now" not stopping or dropping or rolling minutes unfolding by inventions of time cringing upon tower clocks ticking clicking tocks to 12 a.m. a day crackling away

He breathed in exhausting bundles of air chasing vehicles of transfigured transport, taxi cabs puttered and drivers muttered utterances directed by perpetual steering

He moved through crowds of people speaking galactic languages void of meaning, voices repeating

He felt like a triangle in a sphere of circles positives negatives neutrals even within the dirt of his cuticles retained in particles and particular molecules even in hair follicles, a stranger bumped into him and abominably spoke words inaudible, threw a glass bottle breaking to fractals and fragments of disarray

And I could have sworn I heard him say...

It's almost impossible to leave the past behind
Without your new blue eyes