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EphemeralthoughtsPoems
Enraptured in a façade It’s the mirage that I am God The question is not my sense of direction But the of stale afterthoughts guiding an unknown dimension Spraying down like lightening, glistening arced and frightening, The power to transform the tranquil will of my wisdom lingers in the distance Breathe that hope of remedy Speaking with melody Today the time is always now Go forth Tear down these deplorable walls For what remains will forever stay the same So while your stolidly masquerading with the absurd and obscene My backseat dreams come complete with no buttons or seams Go forth Congeal that essence of being And burn the blinding veneer The burden can no longer drive our fear
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Mar 23, 2010
Mar 23, 2010 at 7:01 AM UTC
The character, not the image
Enraptured in a façade It’s the mirage that I am God The question is not my sense of direction But the of stale afterthoughts guiding an unknown dimension Spraying down like lightening, glistening arced and frightening, The power to transform the tranquil will of my wisdom lingers in the distance Breathe that hope of remedy Speaking with melody Today the time is always now Go forth Tear down these deplorable walls For what remains will forever stay the same So while your stolidly masquerading with the absurd and obscene My backseat dreams come complete with no buttons or seams Go forth Congeal that essence of being And burn the blinding veneer The burden can no longer drive our fear
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Ephemeralthoughts
Mar 23, 2010
Mar 23, 2010 at 7:01 AM UTC
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