Chasing the fallout
Of a disaster I chose
Standing on the mount
While others love to lose
The chilled air makes me burn
So I threw away the crown
Bitter because I never learned
I can’t change another’s frown
Yet we are all the same
Or why they worship my light
I never wanted gold or fame
So I stayed out of sight
Then I let my spirit fall
To remind me of their descent
Now the leaves seem so far
As the branches sway with the intent
We are contradictions unaware of bliss
We chose to forget our symmetry
Perfection we thought we’d miss
Since we are simply a dream as telemetry
Maybe we can be no more than a disguise
Our scars seem too heavy to heal
This is why we strive to improvise
We are infinite ways to feel
Telemetry Dreams
Clay The Scribe 