Such things exist as I had no concept,
do exist, then I learned such things exist
as
order lines
for aesthetic
cause or motive,

beauty as a feeling, we feel that,
in inner darkness, cooling shade,
full-dark, and yet we know
beauty as a feeling
growing
something that eats our plastic right,
right out of our brain, our mob mind,

thinks, yeah, right, I know when enough,
is enough,
no munchies gonna make me old,
and fat,
'magine that, naked.

Empire's war flag:
Blood red sun against winter
White as surrender.

A drunken ramble through the wilted trees
Of dark decay and windswept pleas
Across the paths of suffocating shadow
Upon the stillness of a sleepy meadow
I slump down like a tired child
Like a clumsy elephant blessed by the wild
My heartbeat races from toe to head
As my brain dreams back to a beautiful bed
Whilst the river is running fast and unrelenting
I am like the lost soul forever lamenting
Why am I here and what do I seek
A release of guilt or a peck on the cheek
Till soon the lights of suburbia will beckon
Where the weights that tangle are sure to reckon
Alone with ones thoughts is a mental gamble
On this late night sojourn to a drunken ramble