Oysters

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Sunrise, did the yellow orb shine forth
So did the thought of being something
One skin prickled to activity
One ran out for carpe diem

Buckets of baggages, left behind
Resolved and unresolved 
Hidden away in clamshells
Locked and forgotten for opportune times to come
Work their will they do inspite of the clamshells

Tears are shed in silent agony
Decisions made in sanity and insanity
Left to fend all across by ones fallacies
Destined to keep the cycle running

One day, one fine blessed day
Sun did rise, the yellow orb in the sky
The whispers died down
The sound left the inner voice

Epiphanies had in moments of extreme distress
Demons in clamshells end up pearls in oysters




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