My Pupils Are Not In School

As portals draw their shades unto the brightness of the day
Discerneth not beholder seeming either be the seam.
The night is not my mystery, Intuit I what may.
Behold my heart and soul devoid of inter-placed extreme.

What stare at you… not eyes of blue nor pools of emerald green
But quantum singularities a pair and focused from the earth.
The grace of ancient majesty in this day intervene.
The hearts of men in leadership may hinder our rebirth.

My eyes do see a glory that is here and ever now.
The older blood is tainted, misaligned and disagreed.
My glory knows a passion deep yet practical somehow.
Who dares to know that I may glow? Do I appear in need?

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