Bending in Chaos

Patterns of a single wrapper

Brightly red, melting in the constant

Sun

Catch the edge of every saturated,

Green blade

Carving a divided path

Where the winds of chaos chase and

Run



Chased by the one who sees every path
Before the blades are blown to part
And before the wrapper melts into liquid
A glistening red essence scattered
On the edge of time, where red flows from the start

Found before the Earth
Where synthetic colors sink and sank in their weight
Deep into the soil, reaching beyond the roots
Into the cracks of blackened, compressed stone
And dying a vibrant past future that cannot wait

When each blade finds its purpose
Under the sun that fails to end
In the past, the present, the future
Shaking a dried tip of sharp black
Where the wrapper forced the blade to bend