Here's another poem I wrote a few years ago. Found it in old lyrics books I've been going through and figured someone might enjoy it!
Here is a picture of the original page I came across for visual reference.
Spires reach to grasp their peaks,
The architects of dreams,
Spout volumes of themes,
One wrought of iron,
One thin as screen,
Others that vanished,
Though solid they seemed.
Mentality gropes,
For new ledges to grasp,
A simple task, slipping fast,
Flowing through fingers,
Then solid as glass,
The world moving past,
Then slides slowly back.
It wrought chaos on the mind,
Scattered cracks, swift attacks,
Burning the interior,
Primal and inferior,
Shifting stacks and building track,
For trains of thought to leave
And come back.
