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Apr 2011
Fantasy died with a breathe that breathed
In a sigh that danced naked bright and angelic
In a way that said they'd never done it
And would never do it again
It danced with a twang that roared as long as a lion's mane
And rigid as an old man weary wagging his cane
Fantasy moved without aΒ movement
They moved through the willows which whispered woefully
For they now knew how this human race would soon fall
With fantasy without home and mystery in some tomb
There now lay reality and all believeabilty
And love's beating heart
Red and ****
Lay bare in the street not looking at all neat
Seeing what we are, just skin and old bone
Worries, nuances, such as's and this and that's
Plans for this place and money for that
Miles for this road and coins for pleasures *****
Where dirt is a place that is no longer special
Where titles take every cent of entitlement
And your mother is no longer that soft lonesome person
Where people are just passerby's and strangers mean danger
Where the world is an oyster with pearls of sinister
Indeed where were headed is a single celled screen
With laughter and no joke
And green reeds with black toads
Souls that drift alone through black creeks that won't speak
To a man that has yet to feed upon his own
When a man tells himself that the road ain't worth no more
Where they see themselves in cells upon shelves because there ain't
Nobody else
And atop themselves lay illusions with contusions
That spread like wild fire, sparks and confusion
And Simone sighs at last because She knows
That freedom in humans
Can never last
How were we so hopeful
When we can't even eat a spoonful,
Of a faith that lasted a blink
And then we threw it all away?
How close we were to a truth of untruth,
When Goliath's fall and dead men weep
In stone filled graves that carry nothing but what they need to say
With clouds that weigh with rain
Yes' there's nothing else to really say
No there's nothing else I really can believe to say
But back to the face that holds love's belief
And a truth that children one day may not be able to see
Forth with in all these mountains and that cool watery sheen
With the glint of a wolves pelt
And the howl of a coyotes starry wide belt
And the way that owl, way south, does turn all about
Oh these were things that I read and listened and did dream about
For what happened to the way nature used to be?
Yes what happened to the scenes that were so natural,
So easy to be?
But now we see pictures of man, how plentiful, how serene...
Yes we see man and women and scenes and scenes and scenes...
A thousand faces and no one saying a ****** single thing...
Tell me the ways of mystery through illusory lyric
With a prose that moves the softest silent doe
Through a thicket that moves delicate
The way My Molly used to have fun
Oh she could laugh that would make any many daff
A smile they'd never felt, no never once felt
That crept upon them like an invisible golden sun
Shining upon that rotted darken soul
That once they did thought'
Had already been bought
By the highest sinister bidder
That they were the purest litter
But then that screech of the silkiest puriety
Came running through them men
Like that neighborhood mid-morning hen
Oh that woman, oh that woman, yes, oh that woman
Those memories of her
Make me never want to believe
In this world without her again
Mitchell Duran
Written by
Mitchell Duran
691
 
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