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Shane Fanning Mar 2021
It rose from dark void
A place lifeless and decrepit
Where even deities avoid
The 8 keepers in the centre

Like snakes they trap so tight
To pull you into the tarry abyss
Even toothless they grip like a bite
And leave a crimson circle kiss

Like a badge of honour that's deeper than just skin
To escape the waves of a stormy star sea
And like a captain that's never seen the terrors within
The only way to delay the inevitable is to flee

The celestial bodies act like sand in an hourglass
An unstoppable whirlpool of singularity
Like a drain-pipe of light that shows nothing will ever last
With hourglass bottom down in eternal eventuality

Just like the most brutal storm there is always an end
The 8 keepers are encroaching on all there will ever be
Using reality like a wet map that will tear and bend
The sea of existence will settle forever in entropy

It rose the dark void
And all is lifeless and decrepit
Because nothing could ever avoid
The 8 keepers in the centre
Shane Fanning Mar 2014
Oh how it dawned upon me
As ironic as it sounds
I complained freely
Longing life out of bounds

I am not slave to one
But a slave to the system
That seems fair until
You set targets and miss them

You’re free to live
Any role you desire
Unless of course
It’s qualifications you require

These rules hold you back
With your best years spent
You’ll look back at Shane’s words
And see what he meant

But Shane’s not here now
It’s finished its job
It moulded him into
An oppressed slaving cog

Go about your lives
Reside ignorant too
But one day you’ll realise
**This system owns you
Shane Fanning Jan 2014
A vast trench
happens to my right,
A grey scale area
that shadows by night,
The source of its presence
is not of its own,
And would likely dissipate
if 'twas left alone
Outclassed by its brother
that resides aloft,
The border is clear
but the resemblance is not,
Every shade on the spectrum
is there to behold,
And all of the sweet tales
you've ever been told

Nightfall beckons
crevices grow dark,
As the shadows thicken
left side plays part,
Dancing with darkness
only imagination would dare,
Playing with fire
Take reign of the flare

Grey matter grey stone
cold lifeless and smooth,
Must continue to function
Synapses through groove,
Storing all logic
threads memories with seams,
Holds nothing original
overthrown by dreams

The side that never sleeps
illumination glimmers with brilliancy,
Creativity runs rampant
developed no further than infancy,
Discouraged by elders
suppressed by the sage,
Who thinks it sensible
to keep this treasure encaged

Who’s wisdom we question
to feed right side with answers,
The unknowns parallel
prefer singers and dancers,
Who chant the melody
we'd rather discern,
Listen to your left brain
and see what you learn
Shane Fanning Jan 2014
To pick and **** at the creation of one’s mind
To disassemble and dissect what was so carefully made
To not know what you’re looking for or hoping to find
To take a chronicle or joke and slice through with a blade
With no intention of reassembly
Analysis on every word
Chords and notes ripped from a melody
Make logic seem absurd
The bane of creativity
is our tendency to over-think
Logic contributes negatively
Cherished moments seem to blink
A picture worth 1000 words
If at all worthy would deserve none
Break down the image on our own accords
And the image’s fulfilment -gone
Avid appreciation shown only by the speechless
A real artist’s only aspire
Is for their creation to make you breathless
Too worthy for your satire

— The End —