Still born babe coffined.
Mother broken heart and head,
her first baby dead.

Woke up this morning
and went out on the street
sniff a few flowers
and went back to sleep
yes my head was cloudy
but the sky was blue
and I did'nt feel lonely til i thought of you.

the thing about a cliff they say
it's not so very tall
until you reach the top of it
and see how far you fall.

falling down the thick white wall
of rock and much decay
you only see the clashing rocks
forever in your way.

you hit the rocks and pale grey waves
and then time seems to stop;
battered, bruised, and broken then
you start to climb back up.

People walk this earth with regret.
Regretting the decisions they choose to make time and time again.
Transposing every detail as it were a lucid malfunction of the past,
short-circuits of effervescent impulse. Done at a very whim.
Action over impulse. Impulse over action.
We are caught in a natural disaster of our own errors.
It's all the same. Pseudo-visions coming from an all too familiar source.
Radiant aren't they? So much they engulf my iris in a torrent of contradiction.
These are the times we live for. Nostalgia is no longer in our vocabulary.