What is this, but a dream complete?
If nothing more than that.
The day to day toil
Punctuated by fruition
To the victor goes the spoil
To the peasant goes the whip.
Is this not what we aim to achieve?
A proper place in society?
Wet dreams of becoming a contributing factor in humanity,
Poorly cared for by machine?
Is that what we aspire to?
But what of breaking the mold?
Coloring outside the lines,
Crossing out the rules and escaping limitations?
What is this, but a dream complete?
No, it is a dream just beginning.

Poetic injustice
Gunpowder dusted daisies
****** rain.
We've won the war
and lost our souls
Yet we haven't bought enough gas
to get us home.
We're grinding our wheels
helpless on the frontline
Dying for dollars
that will never be spent
Only hoarded by the wealthy
in dusty banker vaults
where unicorns and dragons live.

The silence between us is our conversation
Like electromagnetic sentences, the sparks ignite
our pride.
our lust.
Blood boiling,
my skin crawls towards you.
Soaking up your heat.
I can't take much more of this desire.
It is exposing me in ways I've never been.
So slowly does the night change to light.
So easily we fall.

Balance.
For the beam on which I waltz upon
Is lust.
I’ve lost control.
All sense of limitations;
Disappear in a puff of smoke.
I breathe you in.
Only for a moment,
but its enough
To break me.

Bits of scattered paper.
Rubble.
Demolished house of cards.
A feeble daydream,
Simply to weak to withstand
The reality of the wind.

Breathe
Deep
As the world crumbles around you.
Enjoy the few seconds
Of cosmic dissolution before you forget it all.
It
Is
Just too beautiful
To remember.