Those dark cold nights
The ones I held so dear
They dissipate as ends prove near
I was always blind
I fled from the silence
I ran to false profits
Those who gave me solace
A woman of straightedge
Narrowed by the path
Now holding fire
breath in the wrath
Lost in the found
I am poison
Fleeting through time
The hours conclude
The rasping grind
Run to the roses
For the thrones pierced your eyes
Darling of nature
Watch as all lies
With two eyes absent the third appears
Born into a world that boldly states it wants you dead.
Freaks atop soapboxes pay top-dollar for your head.
Resolution falters and your ego falls apart.
Human beings living in denial of their hearts.
*** is just a hobby to those hedonistic swine,
Twisted metamorphosis of evils intertwined.
More and more consumption just to fill the gaping void.
Lie upon your deathbed and recall what you've enjoyed;
Not the plastic figurines that sat upon your shelves,
Not the animated films you've watched since you were twelve,
Not pretentious critics or the artists they adore,
Selling out your soul, becoming satisfaction's *****?
Living like a rat will never justify the pain.
Running through the maze, the patterns etched into your brain.
Jump through hoops and maybe you'll receive another treat.
After all, the struggle makes your carcass taste so sweet.
people are reading "culture of critique"
I still dream of my father
crossing the pastures
on his one-eyed tractor
mowing acres of sorrow
heading east of a moon
that'll be gone tomorrow
turning one last time as
if to say: so long my son
there’s going to be days
of sunshine and plenty
more of rain as he went
along his way, and my
sadness waved back like
grain in fields of long past
summers and summers
before that, so long a time
ago I can remember only
on lonely nights of heat
lightning and the low
rumble of distant thunder.
A nice surprise on this Monday evening. Thank you all very much for your reading and very nice comments. Please know that I appreciate all of you and your kind words. Thank you.
* To Ravinder Kumar Soni: Opinion entitled to and noted. Thanks for taking the time to read.
— The End —