Few people understand
The poison of perfection,
But I've drunk, firsthand,
Its incurable infection.
My mind, under command,
Had suffered in its addiction;
In swathes of sinking sand,
Convoluted emotion
Roiled beneath an iron band
Charged with electric attraction.
The utter strength at hand
Had lured me into a passion,
Seeking the distant land
In an endless expedition.
YOU ARE READING
Prison of Stone
Poetryʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇʏ ғʟʏ ᴀᴡᴀʏ, ɪ ᴍᴜsᴛ ᴄᴀᴘᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛs ᴀɴᴅ ғᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs ᴀɴᴅ ʙɪɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀ sᴏɴɢ. One journey from the depths of the sea to the edges of the universe. One life that takes us in a thousand different directions yet leaves us chained as we tr...
