My Poetry. Destinations.

Voyage into madness,
explore your mind's contempt;
seek out soul destroyers,
tarnished and hell-bent.
Wander out aimlessly,
dreaming in a state,
wishing all your life away,
and letting others create.

Multiplicity dimensions
of varying degrees,
striving hard to see the sun
through thick, deadly trees.
Night falls slowly,
escaping from it all,
knowing sooner or later
we will be damned or we will fall.

Hovering above a death-like state—
a torture we surmise—
hoping, as we drift in time,
our very spirits will rise.
Reaching beyond infinity,
awake, yet full of pretension,
claiming a piece of bodily life:
our angle of chosen contention.

Shedding the old life,
rebuilding the new,
wandering in solitude
with a worldly review.
Escapades of history,
battles and submission,
tuning in your mind
to a brand-new transmission.

Dimensions all twisted,
alien to us all,
teaching us how to determine
what we inwardly install.
Educating ignorance,
for patience we desire,
for spirits linger halfway
betwixt ice and burning fire.

Your destiny is reached,
body afresh,
born into another world,
uncovered from the mesh.
Take this chance awaiting you—
learn and flourish;
open up your new formed mind,
it's free and ready to nourish.

© William Sinclair Manson 2025