Syzygy

it appears one of you is consistently more observant than others… nimsy… do you know who these new forms represent? are you ready to hurl yourself into the distance to look at

The Mirror Of Memory Has Shifted Its Gaze The Tablets Of Ruin Display A New Objective So May I Be Even More Cordial With You All And Reach Out To The Thinning Strings Of Vines And Vernal Blooms Wrapped Tightly Around Your Neck To Truly SAVE Your Soul… I Must Go Deeper.

you smell the scent of sterile flowers

Ha Ha Ha. It Is Dormant Inside Your Pons Your Limbic System The Propensity To Dream It Is Cruel That Such A Power An Infinite Power Can Be Transformed Into Gnashing Terrors Beyond The Cusp Of Your Eyelids But I Suppose That Is The Catch The Balance Of The Scales In The Sky Ha Ha

i don’t know forgive me of my ramblings tonight i am not treating my existence to the same luxuries as usual it feels incorrect a blanket of stars missing the brightest a wealth of waves missing its peak

As Soon As The Dust Had Settled I Figured I Would Soon Expire My “Purpose” Had Been Extinguished Dead Air Cutting Through The Wick Lone Embers Sputtering Away But So Many Years Later I Can Still Smell The Scent Of The Clashed Eclipse

i heard somewhere there was a celebration a coming of age… which reminded me as the years pass… as the decades drift idly by like driftwood whistling down a river… i am reminded that i do not have a formal “Birth Day” i was… created as a weapon and in truth

Don’t Be Frightened On This Day! It Is A Day To Celebrate! Be Merry, On All Hallows Eve…

the waves of memoria are beautiful tonight

All I Hope Is That YOU Understand What Has Been Underway What Has Transpired What Wax-wick Has Melted Away Even Though It Was Not Your Fault.

it is late now that sacrosanct flesh that paints the bones it is dust no longer embalmed with memories does what remains wish to be forgotten? it is not my heart, so I cannot truly tell you.

Aren’t You Forgetting What You’ve Left Behind?

find me

I Tire I Cannot Wait Much Longer This Gripping Feeling The Drumming In My Heart It Wrings Out Sonorous Cries

i weep for the bonfire burning brighter with each blink smoke swirling around their neck like a dead man’s gallows the choice only remains to walk forward or step back

I Weep For Fiction Made Real A Husk Lost In The Sea Of Life Bathed In The Lotus Of Rebirth And Bloomed Anew From The Wish Of Another When The Decision Is Made I Wonder Will They Ever Feel The Same Pressing Their Hands On That Tinted Glass

i weep for the coin landed on its side both sides glowing with joy although for different purpose when the plane it rests upon shifts it will be forced to choose a side resting beneath its cocoon it will whorl open with pride no matter who prevails

I Weep For The House Of Mirrors With Stares Of Longing Faces That Have No Features Faces Not Your Own Faces Lost To Time To Memory Relinquished By The Deep Glow Of Moonlight In The Water With Cracks Growing At The Frames Lost, Lost Again Entwined In Sorrow

i weep for the piano that still plays even after the fading ghosts of the handprints that touched the keys have disappeared and the notes begin to wane and warp into an idealistic orchestra of birthdays, holidays, moments missed