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With Vitality, With Vigor
How romantic.
The stillness of sitting in solitude
ladened not by the limitations of expected constraint.
Just entirely self-imposed discipline.
How curious. Dangerous!
The inquisition bouncing playfully within.
So real
almost tangible between quivering fingers.
How exhilarating.
Their promises, stifled.
No longer in the forefront.
Only now,
my own
to preserve or shatter.
How invigorating
To just be
as whatever I was designed to.
This sensation, I surmise,
analogous to
a lasting climax
an exodus of affliction from within.
For once,
something lasting.
At last,
something concrete.
How gratifying,
this cogitation.
Oh, how I could live in it forever,
Deluded,
entranced by its propitious pleasantries.
Bright,
Fulfilled,
Satisfied
At last.
© Irina
The stillness of sitting in solitude
ladened not by the limitations of expected constraint.
Just entirely self-imposed discipline.
How curious. Dangerous!
The inquisition bouncing playfully within.
So real
almost tangible between quivering fingers.
How exhilarating.
Their promises, stifled.
No longer in the forefront.
Only now,
my own
to preserve or shatter.
How invigorating
To just be
as whatever I was designed to.
This sensation, I surmise,
analogous to
a lasting climax
an exodus of affliction from within.
For once,
something lasting.
At last,
something concrete.
How gratifying,
this cogitation.
Oh, how I could live in it forever,
Deluded,
entranced by its propitious pleasantries.
Bright,
Fulfilled,
Satisfied
At last.
© Irina
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