19 till I die

Ragestorms on my Mindscape My Mindscape, a living breathing land, grows and sprouts ideas and emotions. In a dynamic balance Between three fiefs One of Peace The other of Pleasure The third where Putrescence thrives. They grow, they shrink At each others' cost. Ideas are born and emotions emerge Ideas disperse and emotions are buried Lurking incessantly like phantoms, Their aggregate is seldom lost. They grow in Peace  And animate Pleasure They subsume, consume and thrive on each other. In this indelicate balance remains An unstable ecosystem of my Mindscape. In bouts of extroversion, I split the skies or let it rain Then shut it all, in dark, dank pain. Summer came by and beamed. Once balmy, then sultry With sensuous, sunny, warm rain And a rainbow shone above. Pleasure flourished With crops of joy, With harvests of stupor In a happy haze,  Gushed complacent gutters. So, Putrescence too made gains, Wai...