A Future

For the strife of these fellows beside you

Cannot be the fallout of the days forthcoming.

Do not tolerate their gatherings without your

presence bane the joy of your own light.

For down the pike there are odds of wonderful

things for you to seek until your heart is made

A garden of ones who leave their art in the dirt.

The standard of this time is corrupted by the

Present, and by the darkness in the greater

Intelligence.

Take back your sessions of word vomit and let

Those agitations slip from your soul into a flame

Of past tempos.

Do for the mortality that is slapped in front of

You to create the refinement of forbears

Stress upon you.

Refrain from frittering with creatures that

Have the basic individual frame.

Create a melody for them to follow and

To until their mind is unraveled, unreal,

From filler colleagues you so wanted to

Befriend.

A hidden undertaking you must achieve

This future is halted, for your coming, without

demurral or absence of a hope for true, eternal

companions.