Time turns to liquid, rolling off my tongue like molasses
dripping technicolor drool, viewed through fungal lenses.

The Battle of consciousness
A labyrinth of truth,
And lies smartly overlain

Running from a past,
Clashing with the present,
To see a sunrise tomorrow

Reaching for a peak,
And numbed by ice,
To live in the clouds,

Above my nightmares,
Disturbing silhouettes,
And moving shadows

I know what I did,
My hands shiver,
And knees so weak

Reliving every second,
Of the dark night,
And each image so vivid

To forget that permanently written,
On a stone wall inside a cave,
Is to break down the walls in my mind,

To **** me from the inside,
And living without a soul

And when my shadow changes color,
From faint to darkness,
It is then that I live pure
Standing under bright sunlight
Leaning against integrity
That my face shall be seen by all,
Across mountains and valleys,
Beyond seas and lands

They were not blind
They just lacked eyes
Never knew a single ray of light
Worked a full clock, until they dropped breathless

And they were not deaf
They just lacked ears
Never heard a single wave of sound
Listened to their own thoughts scream

Yet, each had a mouth
An unquenchable hunger
Driving their minds,
To whatever it is that they could eat

And while at that,
Some mumbled,
Others screamed
To themselves and others

It was a disturbing imagery,
And many indistinctive voices
That my head spined endlessly
Swimming through countless thoughts

May be,
humanity was lost,
To the long structures touching the sky,
Beautiful vessels floating on water,
Amazing crafts flying in the air
And the astonishing world of tech

May be,
while trying to be better,
We fell deep down an abyss
That now we need implements of war
To guard our own interests,
From a brother next door

Skies spread wide with dark smoke
Land eroded to the bottom seas
lakes filled with oil spills
And bodies lay within ruins,
Soaking the ground in child blood

yet, we look into each other's eyes,
A firm handshake, beautiful smile,
Talking about the future,
The one we've strangled with our hands
And leaving our filthy prints on everything

Should say, we can clean our mess,
But yet, time itself offers not enough to correct our ways

But pass down the responsibility,
To a boy in blue boots,
And a girl in pink shoes,
To clean the remains of a generational mess

A shrink she is,
To my troubled self
Swirling thoughts,
blurry silhouettes,
Beautiful shadows,
Cast by a twilight

She smiles like it's sunset,
Resting cordially in a sofa,
Cross legged, hands on the knees

Her neck straight,
That I see blood pumping in her vein
At pace slightly above normal

I swear I would kiss it softly
Like a vampire, letting her feel my warm breath,
Onto her moisten skin,
While I smell her youth,
Like strawberries, red and luscious

Crazy i am,
But truly I know
That I need her next to me,
And not across a glass table,
Reflecting a magnificent sculpture of beauty,

But our bodies kissing,
Sharing sweat and warmth
Her voice melodic, echoing
And Her smell filling my lungs to the soul
Elating into bliss
And moaning in ecstasy

And yet, she fights the urge,
To claw across the table
Biting her lip salaciously
Listening to the words of a deranged poet
Luring his prey for a ****