The Consternation of conscience, Cannot defeat the ticking hands. Nor the leaking life force from within. So what's left? To defeat nothingness, to grasp the universal void, Or to succumb to ego and the glory of things, The way modern hoovers makes us smile, As if the Galaxies give a flying fuck, What we chose.
Blinded by arrogance or misplaced hope we try, To resolve our internal paradoxes But even, All the elegant words, written on a million pages, Cannot capture simple beauty essence of sapphire petals being...
Oh please sweet spirit child, Take no heed of them grotesque trees. Whistling desolation lullabies, Nor the raggedy stars hanging In a rotten purple sky. Beckoning your name to land of the dead.
Oh sweet spirit child, Look at the crumbling gravel beneath your feet. The wind will blow, the crows entice, And all roads will depart into a contorted mists, There is no memories in these rivers of Dreaming fogs. Only fields of illusion green,
these tyrants of men with fat belly eyes Infect our dreams. Soulless sorcerers of threadbare promises. Who masterfully manipulated the hopes Of a disappointed people, And we the demented fools believed, Believed with all our hearts, That they can turn our dusty tracks into roads. Of shiny gold.
And soon beneath a cool winter's sky A flock of black coated demigods will land and will grow fat and hungry, as they try to swallow the world,
Their hidden hatred, faces within faces. And we the blinkered fools cursed...