In a Vision

Aside

          In a Vision 

 In a vision
I was born.
And within a vision
Lies my resting place.
For visions can become dreams, or nightmares.
So accordingly, we should begin to imagine.
 
In a vision
Life can become immortal.
Or within a vision, life may fall.
Depending on the positive or negative forms of the imaginations.
Or the advancements that can be made for good or evil.
 
In a vision
A heart can grow.
But a soul can perish.
Causing either by a rapture formed by peace.
Or the people to succumb to remorseless tribulations.
 
In a vision
Society can change.
Or within a vision
Corruption can become life.
Such as the ones in D.C.
Who have brought a never-ending debt, which has to be paid.
 
In a vision
Colors can be colorful.
Or colorless, depending on the emotions, whether happy or sad
And if they were spilled properly
Either on paper, or the world.
 
In a vision
I was born.
And in a vision
I will die.
Likewise, my vision will always be a dream, never a nightmare.
Therefore, I will envision my imagination in a positive manner.

Robert Alexander Deason           Peace

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Embrace Sour Lemons

Aside

          Embrace Sour Lemons

Embrace sour lemons
And forty-year old wine.
Because a bitter taste is barely bearable. . . .
And only so much shine is kind.

Embrace a beautiful sunset.
Who stages a thousand suns.
And begins a new day . . . .
Where the sunrise hypnotizes in order to inhibit the growth . . . .
Of apricots, oranges, and grapevines.

Embrace a flowing stream.
Whose presence comes and goes.
But is necessary, when life looks rough, tough, and grim.

Embrace laughter.
Because nothing is more powerful . . . .
Or captivating.  Such as rainbows . . . .
But they only appear on occasions.
So enjoy them.

Embrace true love.
For in this world, it’s hard to find.
Especially when you don’t know . . . .
What it means to be taken alive.

Embrace sour lemons.
And forty-year old wine.
Because lemons could always be rotten . . . .
And wine only vibes, for a certain amount of time.

Robert Alexander Deason     Peace

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Through the Fire

Aside

          Through the Fire

Long ago . . . . . .
In a scrumptious land known as Salviador . . .
There lived a lady, who journeyed over the highest volcano . . .
And through the fire, she came.

From left to right, and from top to bottom . . .
She burned, in all forms of sensation.
Now, her mind has nothing but time plus time . . . . . .
And through the fire she comes.

Lava!  The rocks, and the aftershock . . .
Are just meer hoaxes like horcruxes.
Because the penetration brought forth sensation . . .
And through the fire, she came.

Once upon times . . .
In a dwelling called, Mojomorian.
Many maidens passed over Mercury twice, thus it be Mercuri.
And through the fire, they came.

In and out, like birds coming and going year after year . . .
They were living high, and highly living.
After Mercuri, they climbed onto a volcano . . .
Where they burned, and loved the sensation.
And through the fire, they came.

The hot, the hotter, and the hottest . . .
Weren’t even a speck in the wind.
Because the penetration, burned and burned like a sensation . . .
And through the fire, they came.

Robert Alexander Deason         Peace

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