Omnipresence in dreams

You are the only one to hear your own screams

Boost the value of your appearance by focusing on one task at hand

Trade the relapse proposition and watch the choreography of reality dance like ballet in your false eyes

Time flies past in a single moment

Wake up to the unrehearsed,  present.

Paint pretty pictures with wording without worrying about rhyme or meaning

Why agree with words allocating and conforming into one bright fashion

Paint a bigger picture with many words debating a self worth of passion

A Painful war with meaning of algorithms

Forgive me father for I have sinned

Pressure lies with misery in what a deaf man claims to make his voice heard

Subjective to impressionable speeches the voice beseeches this is how it will take place

Bipolar thoughts for a one stop mystery contacted by a twisted turmoil mixed with oiled down objectives

Audio for the non-existent clatter blare at the relentless epic this is what you’re here to do:

Unwanted thoughts absurd dreams means the outcome will only be louder when succeeded

Serious times come with serious measure no-one starts out with the pleasure of; I will be great

Divine wisdom pines for youth can’t you hear the growth of life in which bellows move on

Spin-off of the last outselling product what will happen next, some complex minor detail

One more ****** feature one more addition to the shopping cart one more pair for the greed of fine lines

The stars wed for one eternal dream night sky ever so constant with endless possibility

This is where the human tries to change its destiny

Forgive me father for I have sinned

I have not discovered

I am not listening in

Seek for what is not sought

Some byproduct

Truth be told the paper crumples before you

The truth is a vague distinction between senses to falsify your feelings

Truth be told you can’t trust what you are meant to be

The truth may be capable of changing your destiny

Truth be told the paper crumples you.

I feel nurtured in a way that every wake I shall risen to pretenses of galls

In your eyes expose the mind of a hypnotized blindness

Listen to the suspense listen to the music in which tell you something’s coming

Playing with your mind in an open space in the confines of a small place

Loop rewind play, walk a different path and laugh at the broken bridged gaps

Feel the rhythm of disturbed strings dragged.

I have become the victim of your screeching

I am the piece of something that visits the correlation of a masterpiece

Play the barren sound to an open source brainwave suffer the weak buffered truth

Feel the eardrum ring hand out a scorched twisted tongue tired of talking about nothing

Tolerate the dependence of a derelict falsified significance relating to the complexion beneath

You get what you see.  But some things change miraculously.

Hurry with the developing pictures.

The suns coming to set just like a mess on a canvas

There’s something beautiful about the abstract scheme

Play the refrained song to the bluish grey sky

Lay down and stare and watch what we call time, watch time fade

I'm looking forward for something extravagant in the lonely night

I am a clock that yearns for the counterclockwise

I refuse to admit the time at my hand

today my hands are  young, my fingers long, like they belong on  music

sometime my hands will be old,

and I hope, nay, pray

that I can still afford to refuse the time at my hand

Old, maybe wrinkled all stretched,

but still belonging to music

So I keep a strange faith for tomorrow

Tick. Tock.

Alive but not living
Dead but still breathing
Matured