A Probing Self ...

Can't say why
I am walking through
This little forest
Of my brittle self

Pretty much in the corners
Of another fuming self
I can find this feathered dust
A mist of mine
It is missing here

Never-ending spells
They cast a breadth
Through these chimneys
Rare-earth eyes
They prey on me

Swirling past
A curly road
I reached abode
Though as Sphinx

Shaping up a storm
In soul and salt
I felt a sea and its sailors
And hurt on nails

Same old omens
They share my dreams
And talk in haste
On evolutions

Unchecked boards
I ravage their cannons
And I spill happiness
And blend my blossoms
Quite probing unknowns