Searching for a monument to build,
to my stranger nature.
A display of living purpose,
but it's paper,
A failure to surface,
when the current spills
my hopes out to the maker.
I'm breathing toxic calamity like a vapor.
I'm receding, firing soliloquies over faders,
and waiting for it to taper.
The baser instinct to sink into
to a shape conforming destiny's favor, amazing
but it's death in a manger.
A gift of unrequested breath
to levy questions of our nature
impartial but starting to loose
the fruit for us to play with
Don't play with your food
the canopy vines can't seem to stay in the mood
when amity cries
just as we bite another layer
and hope our spirit affords an existential favor.
The corporeal farce of the mortal coil
Where I'm going, what I've done,
who I am, who I have to become
Who am I to give a ****
about what has to be done
will I be actualized
if I inhabit the gun
will I be dazzled to find
that I should never have won
that all my fevers of prayer
were only threads to be spun
I am the definition of survivor's bias
clamoring for comprehension to a writer's silence
buying into lines reverberating in my mind
and all the while I soak
in revelation of the killing kindness
an absence of a unique purpose
a lavish elusiveness revealing
time as worthless, when I dig for deeper meaning
but seemingly informed by enduring
anguish in a world to test which
axiom I'll push the furthest
my reluctance to lift the curtain
My redundancy in spilling refusal
sooner empty than truly certain
My abundance of energy
filling the room
I bask in knowledge
Honoring the right to never learn it
And so I paint
I drape the walls and fall into
the sordid echoes,
calling through the mist.
Simple soothing bruising lips
They whistle darkness
move your hips
I'll leave a mark
I'm through with this.
Dec 30, 2018
Dec 30, 2018 at 2:00 AM UTC
Searching for a monument to build,
to my stranger nature.
A display of living purpose,
but it's paper,
A failure to surface,
when the current spills
my hopes out to the maker.
I'm breathing toxic calamity like a vapor.
I'm receding, firing soliloquies over faders,
and waiting for it to taper.
The baser instinct to sink into
to a shape conforming destiny's favor, amazing
but it's death in a manger.
A gift of unrequested breath
to levy questions of our nature
impartial but starting to loose
the fruit for us to play with
Don't play with your food
the canopy vines can't seem to stay in the mood
when amity cries
just as we bite another layer
and hope our spirit affords an existential favor.
The corporeal farce of the mortal coil
Where I'm going, what I've done,
who I am, who I have to become
Who am I to give a ****
about what has to be done
will I be actualized
if I inhabit the gun
will I be dazzled to find
that I should never have won
that all my fevers of prayer
were only threads to be spun
I am the definition of survivor's bias
clamoring for comprehension to a writer's silence
buying into lines reverberating in my mind
and all the while I soak
in revelation of the killing kindness
an absence of a unique purpose
a lavish elusiveness revealing
time as worthless, when I dig for deeper meaning
but seemingly informed by enduring
anguish in a world to test which
axiom I'll push the furthest
my reluctance to lift the curtain
My redundancy in spilling refusal
sooner empty than truly certain
My abundance of energy
filling the room
I bask in knowledge
Honoring the right to never learn it
And so I paint
I drape the walls and fall into
the sordid echoes,
calling through the mist.
Simple soothing bruising lips
They whistle darkness
move your hips
I'll leave a mark
I'm through with this.
Everyone wants to find that connection between their spirit (soul, self, being) and the rest of reality. That's mostly what this is about, with some tangents. Getting things out and in stone. Exploring, building, creating our own purpose, or finding the value in the purpose others have created for themselves in an existence that can seem bleak or meaningless at times. There's more in there, but that's sort of the broad strokes. Enjoy, and thank you.
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