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A broken glass lay on the floor,
It had never occurred to me before,
That this image of a vessel shattered,
To someone might have truly mattered,
It could have held a liquid hope,
It could have contained a loving note,
It might’ve meant the world to them,
Thirsty now, unquenched then,
It must’ve fallen from a perfect table,
A dismal ending to an abysmal fable…
To put such emphasis on metaphor,
Will lead you where you were before,
The glass was empty, as always, like us
We will break too, meaningless.
Make me
Begin a commitment
A livid, frigid rigidity
Born and bred in its misery
All contemptuous purity,
Misleads serene duplicity
In all admissible virility,
Sacrosanct and all unviable,
This disposition unreliable,
Outlooks not so reliable,
Ridiculous and undeniable
This solitary moment,
Not in itself so all that potent,
Releasing all these fetid rodents,
Systemic linear motion
Curtailing our devotion
To freeing all emotion
Held true by we, the free.
We fall to power, victims
To this inhuman system,
All zealous to its deception,
Information, insurrection,
Categorized by failures at hand,
Unaware of the faults of man.
In one solitary meaning,
Ever sinking, ever feeling,
Never fleeting in its seeming
To be deceiving ages old,
I watched it pass like clockwork
Crafting, remaining in its bulwark,
A bunker, sunken in its crafstwork,
As it lingered in the cold,
It yet, gracefully omnipresent,
Basked, entombed in its resentment,
Encased, steadfast in its amendment,
Its self-revel to be so bold,
A reminder of omniscience,
Displaced, now self sufficient,
The rock face here tells a mission,
Of a winter’s life it stole,
The chiseled, engraved markings,
Might to some be most alarming,
Yet the feature so disarming
Seems unfamiliar so close to home.
In its forgotten confinement
Does it seek a realignment,
Awaiting the assignment
The order to again roam.
In sedition and high-treason,
Must there once have been a reason,
That so frigid as this season,
Be repeated and retold.
At a loss for all neutrality
It forged a new reality
Sacrificing our morality,
And justifying why we’re sold.
Bounding forth toward recognition,
Strangling, crippling indecision,
The utmost folly as of yet unyielding,
The exaggeration what with any feeling,
Derisive in itself made one,
Come and gone, done, undone,
We search for that which we’re not worth knowing,
We understand less, and even more showing
Is that our arrogance somehow justifies class,
It just but seemingly turns so crass,
An outright parody of what we were meant to be,
Our aims were lustful gain and greed,
There was at one point meaning here,
But through all we have persevered,
We twisted the morals and lessons to be had,
Emerged a joke, and tanked the land,
Bred it and ourselves to be this way,
And wait for a leader to swift us away,
We act without knowledge and ignore the outcome,
Malignant negligence stemming from
Our inability to understand
That there is no salvation because of Man.
I know not the cost.
The price of your sacrifice,
Your murdering your own pride.
The pride you may
Have had for me at one point.
I have never seen it,
Never heard it whisper,
Except when it felt forced
To save some sort of my “feeling”
Never felt it tickle the back
Of my inexperienced neck,
Yet I’ve always yearned for it.
This emotion, like all, I neither
Understand, nor possess,
But I still wish to know its sensation.
I wish to know what I see in others.
To not fail in your specific eyes.
I wish neither to be harsh
Nor accusatory,
I mean that.
You’ve never demanded perfection,
You abhor such an idea,
And, granted, there are things
I have done for which I should be regretful,
But again, I am unable
To understand the very idea.
Ironically, you’ve said I
Talk too much,
Am too full of emotion,
And this such paradox,
I’ve always kept secret.
Sometimes I wish to
Know you better,
To understand more,
To learn your way of thought,
A strain, an algorithm I so respect.
However, it exists somewhere,
Deep inside an earnest feeling,
On subject of your better well-being,
I sometimes wish
You didn't have to know me at all.
The sun did Icarus no favors
His fateful day of flight,
Inanimate or not,
Certain bodies enjoy our plight.
Once again, lost in
False perpetuation of “hope,”
Idyllic fantasies
That such a notion exists,
This symbiotic altruism,
Supposedly reciprocal
In its false entirety,
Is one major devastation
Among many in our evolution.
Giving “freely” in “good will towards man,”
Thinking to ourselves we’ll be rewarded then,
One hand offered while the other is expecting,
Trudging through miserable life without correcting
This anticommunal sentiment
Progressive aggression, breeding resent,
We stumble through life filled with **** but “good”
Swallowing lies we create, falsehood,
The never-existing pure encounters,
Justify our ****** parameters,
“Do for me, I’ll do for you”
In fear, in hate, we come unglued,
Lay blade to table and swear your life,
You’ll never surmount, be above this strife,
Inexorably determined,
Our society lives upon scraps
And ideals old men have thrown
From a tyrannical table
Made of outdated theorems
And objectified values,
Deemed “enough” for us,
And we settle in our filth
As we praise them for their charity,
Wet with anticipation,
We just wait to be privileged enough
To be in their good favor,
To provide their main course.
Our poor blind children,
Knowing nothing of their enslavement.
Lick the hand, all is well,
Die for your master, live in hell,
Survive this canvas,
Post a status.
Die for nothing.
Universally irrelevant,
Galactically meaningless,
Walk the foggy path toward
The void, culminating in
The apex of your misguided meandering,
Blinded all your life
By all variables denying your right,
Your natural freedom,
You waste of humanity.
Out across an open sky,
There a chasm could be spied,
Its truths and meaning it belied,
A beautiful place for me to die.
I went abreast my own spirit,
Deep down the gorge, a fire lit,
It warmed me in the darkened pit,
It there calmed my hellish fit,
It seems to now have come and pass,
The world I knew has turned to glass,
Fracturing now, violent and fast,
And in this crevice I must now last.
Appearing also not like before,
As if kept secret in some moldy lore,
That where we were in years of yore,
We lost all hope, what we’re meant for.
No rain has reached me, no condensation,
No emotion either, no commiseration,
I can’t see further, down on obliteration,
I freely remain in abnegation.
I would still not hear compliment,
I still am unable in sentiment,
Thus far, existing in my resent,
I have reached paradise, regret, repent.
Objectivity in vile domain,
I must again from life refrain,
Where one does dare themselves ordain,
In loneliness, we seek only pain.
Seeing clearly to some extent,
I leave this world in hateful neglect,
I wouldn’t have chosen to be subject
To a world where we fail and deem it correct.
I am not unlike any other,
An abject son, a broken brother,
I can’t exist with “one another,”
I lay waste to land, destroy “each other,”
Lackluster faith and false idolization,
Leave what’s at stake to mass predation,
Content in squalor and mental *******,
Leading to loss of all sensation.
The darkness of this pit is calming,
I find the peace ever so charming,
It acts as shelter, exists as Eden,
This garden of gloom, miserable freedom.
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