Mode: Purple

by Slaughtered Pixie   Mar 16, 2017

I began in hues of blue, from the lightest shade to faded through
Within the midst I wore no shoes, bestow no note cards as my cue
I don't remember how November ended with flame limelight lit
But with fear I smeared in tears into rainstorm in my violet climate
"You feel like home," words that echo through hills and empty meadows
In deep woe I've shown my 'know' of cosmos, outflows of ice and snow
Pseudo psycho rainbows gave in so, cellos bellow in yellows so bright
Pluto tiptoes with Virgo in a tarot tempo slow, the flow of green fire light
Is there prophecy in ideology or theology? Is there ideology to prophecy?
Overthrow any crescendo with crosses and arrows, in-betweens of philosophy
Pleas so to speak, algae from the bottom of the dead sea and see every which wave
Unwritten or unseen? Sewing the seams through give and gave, shadows in caves
Green is always serene, so crisp, so clean, know we don't know what we do not
Remember that girls like bows even without curls, never tie it up with knots
Rain clouds the sane crowds within and throughout vibrations of all sounds
Sunny days up in marijuana smoke haze, awaiting harvest of those I surround
Planting seeds for those in need and threading beads in simple morse code
Hearts bleed red for all blood shed, it's the hues of blue that love in violet mode


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