Fault lines

Strwaling down the fault lines to where?
Unseen scenes, undivided lines, undecided to a mirage
The autonomy of desire were free, the feelings conspiring within,
Barging in to a paradise of flowers or a heat of fury

The walks were mundane, sublime yet youthful alive
The every curves of the path showed explicit warmth of desire
On the dead ends the sight left the mind, the heart felt free
As if the heart beats matched the foot prints and followed the fault lines

The naked virgin truth and shape of the warmth were too serine
So were the conspired whispers and loud commands of words
The one who evades the one for the none, the naïve the nascent yet similar
Every word saw a sense of disgrace nothing charmed but mere the group venus

The night of the fold within were unruffled in a haste, losing the ends of embark,
The letter of the words embraced every essence of disgrace
Roaring were the commands of lord, and the angels keep it, shut it, watch it,
Choosed the spectrum of thought fueled by the nothing but the old footprints,

inquisitive argumentative mind stopped working each time thinking it can’t be it,
pouring over and again the same thought it cant be, from the stream of truth and purity
the muffling and ruffling of thoughts evoking provoking yet closed every time
the new dawn of it was yet to seen while carrying along a new pain other then it

the days were not the days the night never came, the wheels flew down
alas the purity of the truth came true, the wish came true unseen though
the new turns had new rules defined yet not spoken so had to be mum
saw the rising of the burning sun charred in to the lies of the truth as pure as it could be

as the guide came down from the new paradise of unity found in all
refuted it all to the only voice accepted it to all, denial of the ears and eyes done,
the fault lines were deep engraved within yet the walks yet not got in to crawls
was it a fault over the fault line, the sound came from within no

but the visibility of the actions, the words, the eyes, spared none
the lines were more charmed over the congenital, homogenital and each day affinity,
the old roads less traveled had faults but the days were of mere fours month mere four
wished it were a bit more longer of the initial four months over the fault lines

the pursued journey over the lines were seeming lonely with the hast in taste,
the unseen dots over the fault lines were slapped by the new fresh stream of the beach
stunned over the vanity of the new vogue of the choosing the comfort
the fault lines seemd volatile but the new parched heat was all hugged

the desire was that the a sudden break would have been more shrgging
then over the decaying of the days and the nights as the bretahs slow down
the loathes and laugh over regressive dots were all sensible and used to bark at
the baked, frozen, tottered turn were all the ruffling stones were left over the fault lines