Friday, December 30, 2011

Standing on the crestfallen balcony adoring the emblazoned city
The ruins of a great civilization now burn producing a somber glow
The smoke dances to great heights as a symbol of the passionate triumph
My gaze drifts toward the placidity in the distance, savouring the fiery fate below and its ashen existence
For so long I have felt like a man with no eyes, feeling his way through a vast open space, occasionally gripping onto something malleable. Each malleable form would be such a great relief, but feeling it would only ease my being for a brief length of time, I had to keep feeling , and the search for objects kept getting more and more difficult. It was exhausting searching for the next object, but I recently came to terms with my innate blindness, I no longer need to touch an object to feel it.

Sunday, December 25, 2011

The dichotomous decentralisation of intelligent relation decries absolutist formulaic formation

Friday, December 23, 2011

Not Eyed

Through the intricate folds weaved
An exquisite glow had been achieved
Fraying the knots, untying his reprieve
Delaying the rot, death ill conceived
Avoiding tantalized self strangle
Destroys his aggrandizement, untangled
Whilst in free fall his psyche dangled
Relying on support from a strained angel
Fate pries his rapport from chained hell
A sated sigh in retort, estranged, fell

Thursday, December 22, 2011

Wednesday, December 21, 2011

I was lost in in the maze of life
Caught in a doleful, fazed strife
Couldn't tell wrong from right
Pleasure from slight

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

A wandering Man
Free and confined
To colours blind
Blind to the world he flees
He hesitantly heeds
The established decrees
The man still
Desires that thrill
He must resist
Or his path will be missed
Desist desist desist
He persists
He knows it to be destructive
And yet the self seductive
Still echoes in his thoughts
In the sphere of disaster
The Man's future rots
Solvent time his master

The Man was always observing
Adoring their spinning, entrancing
Intrigued by their jubilant air
Their lives danced as ribbons without care
Their dance ethereal, espousing tragic times
They still had faith in their kind
Though to him, hopelessly left behind
Such allure could not be designed
The man vowed to abide by their ways
To release his cynical role, a watchman of strays
He is prevented by isolating distaste
He must always be the stranger in face
A dichotomy between the Man and his Place
For once you perceive existence's source
The chase is impossible without remorse.

The Man glanced longingly at the night sky
A lethargic evening spent pondering why
His existence continues still, which solicits a sordid sigh
The conclusion not to be heard
For it is a beautiful illusion, even if absurd
The man becomes one by loving the starry scape
Feeling the light embrace, his solemn escape
Knowing full well his meaning is null
He has an undying passion which resists the cull
To rejoin with the abyss, he overcomes the rift
His sole comfort provided by the expansive collective
Untempered by the pensive perspective
The Man rests his eyes and sees clearly
The origin of his self; Scepsis, serenely subsides to weary
Embalming dreams cushion his descent into Celestia, nearly
The man glanced longingly at the night sky
He spent many long evenings pondering why
His existence had come to this moment in time
The conclusion is not meant to be heard
For it is a beautiful illusion, even if absurd
The man becomes one by sharing with the starry scape
Feeling the warm embrace, his solemn escape
Knowing full well his meaning is null
He has an undying passion which resists the cull
To rejoin with the abyss, he overcomes the rift
He is comforted by the universal collective
Untempered by the beautiful perspective
The man closes his eyes and sees clearly
The origin of his self, which slowly subsides to weary
Calming dreams cushion his descent into Celestia, nearly
The man was always there
Watching them spin like they always have
Intrigued by their jubilant attitude
Their lives danced as if attached with ribbons
They danced even despite tragic times
They still had faith in their own kind
Even though to him they were left behind
Such a beauty could not be designed
The man wishes he could go and join them
And release his burdensome role of watchman
He is prevented by an unseen force
One which cannot be explained through discourse
A cold barrier as if to keep him in place
For once you see how something exists
It becomes impossible to give chase
Negative mind
Charged and confined
To the colours he is blind
For the world he bleeds
Questionable steed
With minimal needs
And yet the man still
Desires that thrill
He must resist
Or his life will be missed
Desist desist desist
And yet he persists
He knows it is self destructive
And yet he cannot prevent the seductive
Influence from controlling his thoughts
In the sphere of disaster
The man's future rots
Solvent time his master

Tuesday, December 6, 2011

Thursday, December 1, 2011

Why is that I am not afraid of death
But I cower when faced with life
I just want to rest
I keep living but I receive no rewards
It is difficult when the fatigue never wards
There is no meaning in life
But then why am I leaning towards death
Which has even less significance
Which would pay out equal dividends
The only difference is the mean of ends
I need to choose between death or life
For hovering between is a voracious vice
A vain grip so tight
Dark anguishing insight
Night vanquishing light
A silent shift of red rites