Current Mood: undefined
Current Music: "The Noose" - A Perfect Circle
NOTE: 2006 01 17 01H43 EST Ramblings 4 - everything and nothing all in one...
like floating dust,
unabiding wishes for rest
never reach primal need,
instead they fasten their full lips, their light,
on the tip of dawn's lazy, but steady coming -
another unendurable sleepless night, usual.
best-to-be-forgotten imagery in mind
seep the energy of their existence
through boarded-up soul's moment.
the confines are agitated, bouncing
scents, sensations, visions dead,
stroking every side of hesitance's warped ego -
manoeuvred under unsuspecting eyes too blind,
unabashed, extinction's whisper keeps stronghold.
tornado of blurs, scars shake this moment;
rippling, hopping down as though a stream,
images of all roots permeate mind's eye -
actuality, formality, reality, insanity,
a blending with a neverending twirl.
into space of self-achieved paused circus,
mind's wrapped like in a plush warm duvet -
lay the body worn out down to release.
sweet notes of melodies caress senses,
produce sparks of untired imagination,
a trip through the soul of others
reaching your very own at its base.
perfect escape, constructive venting,
feel all the frequencies arranged -
an exterior language to be soaked,
this kind of drowning makes you breathe.
diversions to pass the dreary time, though
don't infallibly hold strength every time,
a work in progress: ghosts will claim,
maim a fragiled sorrowed-down existence.
inescapable treason of realness surrounds,
ready for the coup-d'état that will be
perpetrated on this semi-conscious,
semi-subconscious state of being - unfaltering.
expectations careen their flamboyance openly,
haunting, taunting into the deepest of hopes,
but never will they be satisfied to dance
freedom within the scopes of these lows.
eyes and heart in battle with views exposed
which sink their teeth to chew wasting flesh,
dreams hold the beats even though weakening,
with each passing second, ripping time to rags.
cynicism grabs pessimism around the shoulders,
ailment of a deteriorating core burning to ash
sets all precedences high up like a beating flag.
winds, hail storms obliterate desires to perdition,
but what of sweetness; a delicate glass ornament
which beautifies when all else fails - but tricky,
the reasons don't always follow conformity -
ideals breathe and mystify, never convincing.
nothing of an opus the scratches of these words,
apologies lose sacred velvety form of connection -
dissociated, unrealized, heavy mind hardly blinks
as ongoing flow of abrasive, corroding salts burn
the skin to bare hollowed bones; acidic piercings,
swift dissolvings through the unbearable - the self.
shapely invisibility pledges itself to solitude infinite,
desintegration nears completion, pen drops to rest here.
Words by F.i.in.e Moods
Read 946 times
Written on 2006-01-19 at 03:55
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