Pain to pleasure
The fusion of feelings that fuel confusion constantly
There's no middle ground
There's no left right to cling to in this misery
A flustered faith in state of seizure
Wild convulsions within a pillar
A totem pole of considerations multiplied by the stars
Freedom speaks behind grills and bars
Pain to pleasure
The likely uncertainty that's destined
A maddening place that cools
An oxymoron in motion
There can be no end, nor any beginning
This grows among thorns and cannot live without them
Pierced petals are pretty and perfect
Twisted torsos stem the tide of life
To
feed this lust to live, though living in turmoil
A burst of calm in anxiety
Pain to pleasure
They call this poetry
Live horror in frugal words
Mayhem in verse
A flowing harmony
No middle ground still to be found
Even in paining eyes and pleasured fears
while quaking hands stem steady sorrow
This will make no sense
Yet the mind is clear of what it feels
The inevitability of this sense is not man made
But man
made is the inevitability of the sense once angered
No bones will be broken
While all will be broken
Within this doubting message
All is sure
Where pain is to pleasure
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