Sonnet 6: I am a distance found in pretend land

Unpublished pieces

I am a distance found in pretend land, 
Who knows the travelling pain of the stone. 
Who closes eyes and submerges mind in sand, 
Sinking fresh as if I were a glass frown. 
Wrinkled disguise which hint at lost command, 
I purchase the story that must be read. 
Intersecting emotions with harsh demand, 
Bleeding through the mocking that heart is fed. 
If a statue I became, this appears, 
"My name is nowhere and is everything. 
I am flowing peace and washing fear", 
This would be my dead wishing bell to ring. 
For nothing represents the stagnant flow, 
Quite as much as the weeded path that grows. 

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