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Adam Kinsley Apr 2020
I vaguely remember
My heart in Her hand
Those days, spent in silence
My head in the sand

The time swiftly passed us
Each year, we loosed hope
When push comes to shoving
It's harder to cope

With cruel recollection
We hid each mistake
Our minds, self-deceptive
We give less than take

With passion, unconquered
We gave up the ghost
Amidst my intention:
I miss Her the most

We gave up our solace
To search for cruel schemes
If only we'd known this
Outside of our dreams...
Adam Kinsley Apr 2020
I see the end of my feeble might
Watching Rome burn, with Nero Caesar at my side (1)
My brothers have gone mad--
The unsurpassed past stalks me like my shadow

Behind closed doors, I hear deception lurk
Redemption turns into defection from my conscience
My misdeeds swim with me in a vibrant sea of self-loathing
I hear the Visigoths clamor outside of my brain's walls (2)

My paranoia precedes my ambition
I sent spies to **** my loyal friend, Parmenion (3)
No crisis is averted with my self control
I expose my haughty pride to choler and strife

My senses burn through their synapses
Soon, all will be lost--
Integrity took an extended vacation
I blackmailed Her with all that will vex...
NOTES
(1) Nero Caesar was the last in the famous (and, infamous) first line of Roman emperors. Halfway through his reign, a great fire destroyed roughly 1/3 of Rome; after-which, Nero started to show signs of insanity.

(2) In 410 AD (ACE), the Visigoths were the first foreign invader to enter and sack Rome since the Gauls did so exactly 800 years earlier

(3) Parmenion was the second-in-command to Alexander the Great. He was trustworthy, and was also a friend to Alexander's father, Phillip II. When much of Alexander's unhappy army started to mutiny, Alexander killed several of his army's leaders and their fellow conspirators; but then, in paranoia, sent assassins to **** his second-in-command, Parmenion, without any word to or from him...even though it was never proven that Parmenion had any knowledge of the plot.
Adam Kinsley Mar 2020
You femme fatale
I lost morale
We give and take:
It's our mistake

We're cruel and coarse
There's no remorse
We bent the rules
Our hearts are fools

There's no control
I sold my soul
We cheat and lie
And, live to die

We're tried and true
With fear, anew
Devoid of sense:
We're on the fence

Benign intent:
Our hearts are spent
With fear and joy:
Our lust is coy

This Love pretends
So soon, it ends
To no avail:
We're doomed to fail...
Adam Kinsley Mar 2020
I took a trip down to where my life went off-track
To tear up aspiration, once-and-for-all
But, I've been trying with all of my treacherous might:
To pretend that I don't want little pieces back

To retrieve my schemes, which once were dreams:
I delve into the synapses, of which I wished were contrived
As an indentured servant of a past which hasn't passed
Apparently, my heart's omission is exactly as it seems

Two witnesses agree: each third angel will fall
What I proposed as wit, I need to forget
I failed to surmount my own conscience
The will I contracted was feeble to sprawl

Who heard heralded heartstrings here in my heinous Hell?
Through a system of tweaked perceptions:
Of odious arrays of distinctive dishonor
But: I guess, all my demons have known me so well...
The first two stanzas of this piece speak about humanity's weakness, and the second of pride (alluding to the fall of man and fallen angels)
Adam Kinsley Mar 2020
There's an addict in the attic
In the cobwebs of my brain
I threw a party in his name
Distress follows me every day

What reckless intention:
Regret never left
Sanctification is feverishly distraught
I never woke up from this dream

Relapse reveals relinquished regret
My God, have you forsaken me?
I am not a patient of patience
Regret recreated my reviled redemption

My heart keeps a record of my wrongs
I can't control my own mind
Rest alludes me like all of my dreams
I give up pretending to live in my reckless schemes...
Adam Kinsley Mar 2020
Spinning the bottle:
Hand on the throttle
Unwanted dissent:
It's not what I meant

Cordial yet feckless
Livid and reckless
I gave up trying
I felt like dying

Euphoric divergence:
Chaotic resurgence
It's just as it seems:
I gave up my dreams

I run from the past
To live in this caste
Self-loathing will boast
I miss Her the most...
"Her" in this piece isn't actually a woman, but rather, a point in time in the past.
Adam Kinsley Feb 2020
I feel like a floater:
I find a different life every year
Euphoria is a thing of the past
An archaic dissent into madness

"The words I write are cheap and trite"
I bury my demons, but they come out at night
I can't escape from the words in my mouth:
Or, the vexation stuck in my soul

I hear the music between my heartstrings:
But, do not know how to portray [it]
My reflection has mocked me for years
I don't feel most of anything

My conscience has taken an extended vacation
I called them, but they passed out on the couch
Dreaming has passed my past
I can barely remember...
Listened to this song while writing this piece:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5p7Hjy5BBgQ
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