Beginner’s Luck: probably nothing

she said nothing about her dream
nor would anyone for anything
disheartened to cross the Desert in all of its entirety
just to see or perceive the Pyramids untouched sands
Wiccan weathered, and strangely out of place
just a pile of stones; a dust bowl in Dead space
devout to your residence signaling dignity in disarray
immortal to the dreamer as she dreams to relay
an irrelevance undecidedly unknown
unloved and overthrown;
to the sun gods we are shown
unkept secrets throughout our genetic growth
for we came across the Desert to know and to face
a transient pilgrimage to Mecca
definitively erased;
facing days through mute crystals
metaphysically exchanged
different from me, yet you won’t change your ways
always the same in the dawn of the new age
a stolen gaze in a softened lunar phase
a fixed linear chase;
as emerging verses erase
obstructions once obeyed
we’ve surrendered to evade
tell me, “Is this the new way?”
beginner’s luck; probably nothing
no more or quite less insane and
Its looking pretty fake;
in blood loss, lost debts are repaid
within intervals that hardly interchange
nothing new, it’s all the same
probably nothing but
the same cyclical ways
regrettable states of a transitional grace
falling in and out of pace
among Interplanetary states
of cerebral distaste; sinking
falling, so encaged just
in case you’re too
strange; just
Change

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