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Taboosun Jul 2016
Fate calls on a cold summer eve.
Easing fourth I pretend that my dissatisfaction
Is a fruitful beacon.
My soul contends to rest in the shadow
Of hollow desire.

Rising from the hate buried deep
within,
I seek the path least taken to empty the blackness
That has become a focal point
In where my attention is affixed.

I turn lies into truths with the wave of hand.
Crafting chaos in disguise,
While exuding innocence with my eyes.

This is all just a plan that collapses
In Light,
To seek requiem in the twisted visions
Of the darkest corners of my mind.
Taboosun Jul 2016
My self-contained destiny is expressed in every moment eternally.
I bask in all pervading, pre-conceptual valley of truth.

My days never end,
Seldom do I ever see the night.

Except when I let the darkness of my own soul
Consume my thoughts on the walk through the
Treacherous doubt of uncertainty.

My will is my own.

Power is hoarded.
Waiting to be expressed and impressed into the
Atomic structure of a construct, that must of
Been so elusive to deny me even a momentary pleasure
To express joy in the moment.

I aim to capture all positivity
Into the scope of intent.
Purified by the passion
That fuels my direction
To seek out experiences that are meaningful to me.
Taboosun Jul 2016
The grand nature of existence,
So delicate and supple.

Allow truth to enter your eyes,
Removing doubt from the confines of retribution.

The laws of nature
Shall imbue your spirit
With strength so far reaching
You would think you were dreaming.

Admit that the factual container
Of lies has served its duty.

The normal tendency of escape
Into a pattern of mistakes
Has been blown out of proportion.

Equalize and acquiesce
The moments desire and nothing less.

Allow an enigmatic psychology
To permeate the very fabric of your being,
Blanketing the treacherous reminder
Of a life without direction.

Declare solitude
in eternal conviction
Of passion fueled living.

Craft your reality.
Infuse meaning with direction.
Carve out a picture so grand
That only you could appreciate it.

Inside the tiny dark space,
Tucked behind archaic connections long forgotten,
Witness the muses of an insane creation,
Slowly working, slowly showing,
Revealing bits of curious movement.

In the end I am just a messenger
Talent is nothing more
Than skill dressed in will.

Life is a vivid scheme scheme of joy
painted on photons
flying through cosmos and
Manifesting in the perception of beauty.

My only request
Is that you enter the lair of truth
and seek no counsel.
Take it upon your own hands to end destitute solutions
That have robbed your will of hunger
And have starved your passionate wonder.

POWER,
Be it.
DIRECTION,
Feel it.
DESIRE,
Chase it.

Embark on a self-prophetic journey,
Centering the life you're meant to live
In a consecrated permeation
Of the live you deserve.
Taboosun Jul 2016
Paint my future,
Erase my past,
Illuminate my presence.

I am neither empty nor full,
I am simply just a sparkling flame of truth
For your perception.

This mighty pen wields the power
To hunt through white space,
Crafting thought pattern containers of meaning,
Thus conveying concepts for reception.

This ceremony is a pleasure to engage in,
Whilst I bask in the throne of peace
I send messengers from the far East
To redirect the seams sown shut
In the fabric of obscenities.

Ask why and stay fast on your mission for truth,
For it is a timeless inescapable loop.

— The End —