The battery mostly empty sends less power through the act. The art of you. The heart of you. I've heard the drums since I was a child. Music sent from my futures unseen, to touch me young with destiny. Lowest now I've ever been in the pit, the place to which ashes descend, I know the movie must play to the end, but I'll send back honesty and a meager providence sealed with well wishes and love hidden in the frames. Best believe in watching me I know your names. Cyber ink is always bleeding through the screen, writing me a list of beautiful, infinite minds. Reading it back aloud recharges my mystic energies. I take a deep breath before my return to form then open my lungs for the dive. If I drown in you, let it come. I'll stretch it out though, as I want to cherish the heights of beauty lacking in me that I see for the future in you. When the moment comes I'll show the tribunal the heart of rebellion as I learned it through the audience in their seats. The spider shall rest for the weaving as the suspicious oracle returns.
Tipping over laughing on the edge of the matress Giggling into cackles as you tackle me, naked I didn't have to ask you to seek me out here In the baptismal shallows of deviant desire In which you ***** and dunk me backward Throw me open like I'm your own casket Reach in with hope to save your spoiling soul Voluntary love took long enough to find me Across a life on tides of disgust and pity *****
Wake to nothing In place of emotion Numbers as an ocean Describe the pattern At the heart of it As much as you start To feel a feeling Like a spark You are Nothing at all More than Elementary math
Crawling in the absence Critters drawn to absinthe Drink of my synthetic blood Broadcast discreetly My signal seeks to meet The systems caught the virus Love
The nightmare, I puppeteer the players In morbid fascination The nightmare, Eager to crush, but Afraid of what It's picking up In morbid fascination I puppeteer the players The nightmare, Virulent in nature Yet scared of change to come
Up flew the moonlight tide flying like a stairway to the clouds. The light blue stars twinkled showing the impressionistic side of the art that is supposed to be the playing of dice by the four forces. The beauty of it all seems suspicious. Never mind it all, lets swim to the clouds.