History has dreamed of me
And as such in its’ imaginings
Feels the painful days and tragedy
Of my great lament
Scorching the jagged edges of the world
It is a history that possesses
A capricious and intense sensitivity
A receptivity to suggestions of the imaginary
It bestows instability to the great vital rhythms of my life
And the misty memories of that present,
That present past, provide a misery of mood
Fills my veins with an inconsistency of feelings
Creating an all engulfing anxiety
Of fear and contempt for myself
Where amidst this great disorder
I fear that all hope has fled
Vanquished toward a black and purple sky
This causes all the great human dilemmas
To take up unwelcome residence in my mind
Which is tortured by a pervasiveness of antagonism
Antipathy and disturbance
You see I can no more escape from these
Obsessing reflections in my consciousness
Than I can from my own reflection in a mirror
Sep 22, 2012
Sep 22, 2012 at 7:32 PM UTC
History has dreamed of me
And as such in its’ imaginings
Feels the painful days and tragedy
Of my great lament
Scorching the jagged edges of the world
It is a history that possesses
A capricious and intense sensitivity
A receptivity to suggestions of the imaginary
It bestows instability to the great vital rhythms of my life
And the misty memories of that present,
That present past, provide a misery of mood
Fills my veins with an inconsistency of feelings
Creating an all engulfing anxiety
Of fear and contempt for myself
Where amidst this great disorder
I fear that all hope has fled
Vanquished toward a black and purple sky
This causes all the great human dilemmas
To take up unwelcome residence in my mind
Which is tortured by a pervasiveness of antagonism
Antipathy and disturbance
You see I can no more escape from these
Obsessing reflections in my consciousness
Than I can from my own reflection in a mirror
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