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They’re back. Returning like the sun To the horizon by morning, A genuine gold crown In place of a shadowy Silver mask; equally as Blinding as the yellow sky, But covering a face Concealed by lies And grand performances. A sickness of sadness Overwritten by a new Plague of shining smiles And voluntary sleeplessness, Symptoms evocative of the lost Thoughts rematerializing within The great oceans of my mind. An already accepted fate In bold prophetic writing, Burned pages at a time and Rewritten in a language Of crystalline passion. My will has returned.
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Mar 14, 2019
Mar 14, 2019 at 6:06 PM UTC
Natural Dopamine
They’re back. Returning like the sun To the horizon by morning, A genuine gold crown In place of a shadowy Silver mask; equally as Blinding as the yellow sky, But covering a face Concealed by lies And grand performances. A sickness of sadness Overwritten by a new Plague of shining smiles And voluntary sleeplessness, Symptoms evocative of the lost Thoughts rematerializing within The great oceans of my mind. An already accepted fate In bold prophetic writing, Burned pages at a time and Rewritten in a language Of crystalline passion. My will has returned.
KeatonB
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Mar 14, 2019
Mar 14, 2019 at 6:06 PM UTC
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