The luminosity breaks my cage of crepuscule as the vociferous symphony of the media obstruct the clang of injustice. A thousand eyes glare at Lucifer yet neglect the vision of purity as their hand points with each finger a spindle establishing a cloak made of stigma. The cloak, an item I am now constricted in, is in completion as the gates stance creates a void soaring over me to which I am absorbed - as on the other side lies the devils crooked tune whilst God strums the chords.
Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 4:58 PM UTC
The luminosity breaks my cage of crepuscule as the vociferous symphony of the media obstruct the clang of injustice. A thousand eyes glare at Lucifer yet neglect the vision of purity as their hand points with each finger a spindle establishing a cloak made of stigma. The cloak, an item I am now constricted in, is in completion as the gates stance creates a void soaring over me to which I am absorbed - as on the other side lies the devils crooked tune whilst God strums the chords.
More of a creative piece than a poem, please forgive me ;)
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