Your tear
Trickles and drips
Into a sea
Of blood.
Chains left
Red and blue stains
Around your wrist,
Around your neck.
Mirrors show a reality
You cannot accept.

You scream
Watching the growth of
A rotten seed.
What else do you do
In the wake of
The ugliest deed?
What else do you do
In the wake of
A limitless greed?

Your tear
Trickles and drips
Into a sea of blood.
Ripples grow
And reach out
Far and wide
Tainting streams.

The blood boils.
The blood hears the chains
Rattle in this
Mortal coil.

I’m inspired
Underneath the cloak of the night
Before the crack of dawn.

Comforted
In the space between the walls
This soul built for itself.
Foundations set
On the comfort of the confirmation of
The truth.
Foundations laid specifically
To limit me,
Specifically
To set me free.

When the divine design is
Bare and naked,
Consciousness shows it’s double edges;
Consciousness becomes a threat and
I am conned.
Consciousness turns me into a slandering dog and I’ll fetch whatever entices your eyes
For your love becomes
My love of
I.

Desires and emotions,
Fleeting like night and day,
In a vulnerable soul.

How do I put this?

I am free underneath the cloak of night.
And you could bring the rays of dawn.
But first
Understand the light in darkness.
Go beyond sight,
Because I am free from
The expectation of
Surface delight.

He performs an act of deformation
Because while the world seems to be
In a period of stagnation,
Out swarms his imagination.

The process of distortion is meditative.
Something natural about using
Force on an object stubborn yet
Submissive.

He casts it on fire.
Bends it
Pulls it
Throws it
Kick it!
Hit it!
Scrape it!
Tear it!
DESTROY IT
and see it destroyed-
Created into an imagined image.

His urge completed,
He marvels at his god-likeness
To bend objects at his peril
Taken out of its feral
In a process as natural and
Disruptive as
An earthquake or a tsunami.
And yet,
He bares no blame or shame for
Mimicking life in the dead and gone.