On A Southbound Insomnia Train


Bored amongst the brethren beaten, beneath the bequeathed and benign. Time stands still and the ticking tinge and twirl of transcendence ascends to cadence. Condensed, cold, calm and composed like withering white whirlwinds of scarlet snow outside my window wooded and withdrawn from the vissisitudes of the past, the cast, the senescent and the present.

On an Insomnia train bound south…

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s