Shifting Moments.

Tomorrow shall become shapely,
But today, grainy, through,
Which seeps forth expectation,
Greatly hued of anticipation,
Being interrupted, being transcendent.

Minds create, sewing dreams,
Where sweetness swathes surrealism,
Even if, together,
That which it drains,
Is itself, tasting bitter.

Goes creativity, blooming unease,
Sprouts a certainness,
Ever so close, if closeness to,
What becomes and became,
In all, differently aching.

The intake inked, spreads,
Blackening what remains,
Peculiarly a stemming affirmation,
Soaking it, adding grays,
A gray game, undecided.

Faithfulness complimenting forwardly,
A repetition of chains clinging,
Sharply they conquer,
If only wielded, converged,
Hope, greatly at stake.

~ Ielfphil Raven.