Where Art Thou Baritone?

Never has there been such a time,
to let loose into an impression of elation.
Albeit it may arrive only after a kind of necessary seasonal disappearance.
It’s the ultimate journey of the hero,
back into the realm of choice, a cyclical existence for all.
Time to soar beyond the horizon, forthwith at the furthermost separation of all time.
Not only is the volume amping up but the tenor along its side holds a circumstance of chance.
Looking out into the expanse,
what greater vastness than an wide-open sky,
or an outstretched ocean to embrace you along the way?
Too few choose to taste, this other plane of thought.
Strained necks, eyes piercing like lasers into the fictitious world cradled in their palms instead.
Your head feels weightier when not aligned as it should, pulling everything down with it.
Like a record, “keep your head up,” I repeat to my darlings.
There is edginess and malice but there is also human courage.
Dear God enter our nations.

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