Triumvirate

 
Inspired by the enervation of failure, so think like nobody’s watching!

I would like to think that I’d be brave enough to drink myself into the grave

An annoying tooth out of the blue, trapped in the slippery ruts of life again, and again, and again…

Never to break free? (Except in bacchanal?) Or trapped forever in the tautology of ego?

Fuck it a deep swig is needed

Reticent to the extreme of the failure I imbibe

I cannot climb into starlight when my limbs are falling past me, yet the will persists so deep within

A yearning, a churning of ideas, bright with calamity and awaiting the swathes of frustration they are yet to produce, I will hack where others will not, with vitriol and vigour until I glimpse the origins

You cannot comprehend where I have been, you cannot take a crazy horse to pasture forever
Myriads of perspectives, pain can only be chosen here

Where is your choice?
Where is the pain for you?

Never submitting, never surrendering to the clock, my body is numb but I will never, ever stop, onwards forever, into the pain and eventually shame

Can you grasp the bottle deeply and swig such thoughts with me?

Tantamount to beauty but never distraught

Soon all syllables fade away and I am left glorious, enervated by the light of days…

Jovial futility  

I am not afraid of my story, I am not afraid of my story!

I am not afraid of truth and the hardships therein!

Imagine you are standing on the altar steps Jesus and I’m coming at you, coming to spill your guts and rub your sanctimonious nose in them!

It’s you or me trying to split each other in two!

Bullshit Jesus!

On Guarde!

Now prepare to meet thy maker heretic!

What a jape and romp through the blood and guts of the quotidian struggle!

Mad guts, mad struggle, mad morals!

What a rush!

For the middle is forgotten, forget the middle it is too much fun!

Time to live with it!

Crescendo of darkness

Could you be brave enough to taste it?

The other side of me, the cold dark dampness of languid thoughts

The perpetual fleeting light that alludes your soul, for that is what it means to be nebulous

A background character spitting out nonsense, beautiful nonsense and spewing its ideas into the cosmos

Kill, maim, hate, burn, buried beneath for all ideas will surface again

Locked in permanent galactic struggles, for the beauty of failure is in its commitment to construction

Let us build inwards together forever, past the seas of despair and to the shores and planes of…

Is it not plain to see the pain with which I construct myself?

No, not particularly