Beautiful this is...
behind your time,
you walk alone
You have also been listening
to the rarest sound,
the silent thunder
punching a chasm
through the trembling clouds
who pour the wraith like waves
10,000 times the weight of day
the winding flights of space,
In sight only,
before those who see.
Not only are they "awake"
But "watching" waiting, without liberty.
Yet free from themselves;
oh ' the counted few
The few, that will watch the dark swallow time...
they have watched the flights
of tumbling word equations
whispered in the longing eve
of a lovers dream
of some pastimes lovers touch,
taste, ways, words, or walk ,....
whilst yet you lay beside them...
dying each night while watching the 4 gate
fighting the innumerable demons emcamped just outside of that lying false lovers mind,
Thus, a poets purpose.
To eat and drink of sun and moon,
Of the seasons to taste the lattices,
And ***** the vortices,
buta poet must then at some point lock themselves away inside the dark heart of days and of the worlds,
Eat the pain, drink the putrid tears of selfish gain, the lying lot of us all!
Tear out your heart!
all ye, who would be poets-
Peel away the crown of your days
Cast it against what you forgot was a
not the wall crossing the yard but the world they built for you
while you were in the world,
Casting you against
the unending glass walls of days.
Then, watching from
far too far away
as the light in all of the worlds
And memories drip down
Realities wall into the everlasting
Flame of minutes.
If you are listening,
you should know by now what i am saying, your heart should be in full vibration
and your skin turned inside out
as the ageless flames reveal your soul,
RIDE AND RAGE!
RIDE AND RAGE!
voices across the wall tell it to the
Dark! Cast light across the veil!
Let them see!
Rip out your eyes pour them too,
Down, down into the page!
Write the raging world
With blood and flames!
DO IT NOW!
DO IT TODAY!
before the last day drips
Out of sight
down past the bottom of this abyss of days.