Walk
on, the only thing within your transparent possessions that is real, walk on as
you always do
Sitting
quiet with your own thoughts as distant reminders, the books you read an
irritation
Depressing
is the word she used to describe your writings, scratched onto your heart
What
comes out from your mouth, what comes out from the tip of your pen relates to
nil
Rapid
tapping the only sound in the shadow world, the sounds of they who drifted off
too early
A
nervous almost frantic rhythmic reminder of the few left, soon to be forgotten
So
walk on, Grey Drifter of the plains, seeker of nothing, knowledge of timeless
gain
Walk
between the soft singing trees as they sway and reaches where cosmos reigns
Soundless
throbbing roars filling the valleys of the shadows, forever in the dark
Your
words looses meaning as the pages are filling up, black ink resembling emotions
Strings
of nothing looks back into the black hole that is you, predominate the
confusion
Sounds
that are words that are lines on white paper, matte purity supporting the
filthy lingua
Kill
‘em all, let God sort ‘em out
Be
the debaser, one with the power to be whipped bloody, forced down on his knees,
ready for the blow that will lead into the soaring high of ones true consciousness.
Believer
of the roots that feed, the branches that reach, the knowledge of mimeme.
Carry
the knowledge out, into the dark that supports the strong steps, guiding you
further inwards
Black
beach, pounding waves rolling in from the dark horizon, only a blinded man can
see now
Loosing
my time, his Steppe that supported life is no more
Fade and rot, only the Wolf sees reflections in the sky
Parallel octaves fading in the wind
Gone and forgotten
Drifter
Ω
No comments:
Post a Comment
Note: Only a member of this blog may post a comment.