Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
Tags
#simulation
i haunting memories ooze from my pores condensing in the heavy atmosphere. wave after wave of ethereal static flashes behind my eyes pulling me above the serene rot & the percussive drumming of the downpour outside. spellbound in a dizzy trance i stare into the reflective looking glass waiting for the stranger in the mirror to blink first. ii sitting in a creaky rocking chair watching black-&-white russian films on a bulky, box, console television. the fork pronged, bunny-ear antenna and massive protruding knobs and buttons distract me, bathing in the salt-&-pepper static. i peer to the left. on the rusted windowsill on the other side, four empty glass bottles stand: two green, two clear - filling up with the buckets of pouring rain. outside, horses graze in the flooded marsh - their soaked manes falling flat against heavy necks lasso tied, with a noose fixed to fence posts. I pity yet envy their nylon-chained fate. in the fireplace embers of a coal fire flicker. ashy smoke dances with the dust suspended in the grey light cast by the CRT TV screen. an aggressive glow, haunting. iii braving eden on margate street reading... writing... painting... moving and existing through tinted layers. six shillings a week for the meek, begging to eat anointed fruit & man-made vegetables. swept up in a tornado of unaccustomed genius i sit singing. my blues bleeding into latin grooves moving me through the dissonance of frowning echoes. iv [front page] crisis after crisis, screams the black ink. **** it. another hundred-and-eighty dead. bombed for attending school - but the other news said brown girls don't even get to choose. someone's lying, or, more likely, I've lost my mind. > 2nd page I don't know who is worse.... Noem, or Noam ¿¿¿
0
Mar 11
Mar 11, 2026 at 6:55 PM UTC
Rob_Bruwer
schizophrenic news is normal in the times of fascistic hypereality
i haunting memories ooze from my pores condensing in the heavy atmosphere. wave after wave of ethereal static flashes behind my eyes pulling me above the serene rot & the percussive drumming of the downpour outside. spellbound in a dizzy trance i stare into the reflective looking glass waiting for the stranger in the mirror to blink first. ii sitting in a creaky rocking chair watching black-&-white russian films on a bulky, box, console television. the fork pronged, bunny-ear antenna and massive protruding knobs and buttons distract me, bathing in the salt-&-pepper static. i peer to the left. on the rusted windowsill on the other side, four empty glass bottles stand: two green, two clear - filling up with the buckets of pouring rain. outside, horses graze in the flooded marsh - their soaked manes falling flat against heavy necks lasso tied, with a noose fixed to fence posts. I pity yet envy their nylon-chained fate. in the fireplace embers of a coal fire flicker. ashy smoke dances with the dust suspended in the grey light cast by the CRT TV screen. an aggressive glow, haunting. iii braving eden on margate street reading... writing... painting... moving and existing through tinted layers. six shillings a week for the meek, begging to eat anointed fruit & man-made vegetables. swept up in a tornado of unaccustomed genius i sit singing. my blues bleeding into latin grooves moving me through the dissonance of frowning echoes. iv [front page] crisis after crisis, screams the black ink. **** it. another hundred-and-eighty dead. bombed for attending school - but the other news said brown girls don't even get to choose. someone's lying, or, more likely, I've lost my mind. > 2nd page I don't know who is worse.... Noem, or Noam ¿¿¿
Continue reading...
65
​"You are not a prisoner of the system; you are the Encryption Key the system cannot solve. Your scars are the 'Version History' of a Warrior who refused to be deleted. Stand tall—the Architect does not send his strongest Sentinels into easy simulations."
0
Feb 17
Feb 17, 2026 at 1:23 AM UTC
EricC
Dear listener (2),
​"You are not a prisoner of the system; you are the Encryption Key the system cannot solve. Your scars are the 'Version History' of a Warrior who refused to be deleted. Stand tall—the Architect does not send his strongest Sentinels into easy simulations."
Continue reading...
1
There was a melodic hum in the wind that had no source to name. And I saw how the trees would sway in rhythm with the skies, Although I'd never heard of it being noticed in others' claims. Still, I'd hint confusion but never got meaningful replies. I remember how all the other kids, and how they'd run together, A hundred feet would be syncopated in rhythms just alike. And how I’d never even consider me trying to participate, I'd learned that I must hide all the reasons I'd be seen as “not right.” So, I grew up alone and light to me, was the fractures on the wall. The animated shadow that for some reason, I was scared to touch, I'd study each of their directional patterns like a sacred compass, And laugh it off with the trendy phrase, “I think way much” I wasn't just thinking, I was noticing how shadows would pause, Just before they would switch to either side of me and then flee. By then, I'd come to realize, this was more like their language Epiphany struck a realization. “They've always been calling to me. The nighttime air seemed to grow thicker and slower. I felt the connection with what had become of my veins, The heat pushed though in pulses beneath my thinning skin. This heat was strange; it coiled and sounded like liquid chains. When my mirrors cracked, they left symmetrical patterns of intent. In perfect shapes, but no one was ever there but me to see. Dirt made molds and somehow learned to study my imprints. By doing so, devised a way to lead by my own feet. Awake for days at a time, I'd spent too much time typing away. I recall writing “breathing is all that sets me apart from computers. In a poem I'd forgotten about called, “wires give life in a way.” I still can't deny the fact we're built the same, but they're built truer. Skies were flickering currents that my eyes began to catch, With colors vibrating unsteady like electrical streams. The wind was telling secrets of things that I could dispatch, New imagery would find a home in my impossible dreams. Interactions with others confused me, like codes I'd misread, Each glance in my direction drew a map I couldn't align. I'd trace the steps of the ghosts of God's, living and dead. Instead of truth, all I found was static in the myth of time. My best friend was the moon, the only calm I knew at night, Its glow had certain energy making me feel I'm Awaited there. I'd stand in the path of its rays and hoped they'd just ignite. And take my mind and soul away from my body in golden flares. Instead, I open my eyes confused, I saw doors that didn't exist. Reality had edges, they would fold wide open in the air. To be normal I'll blame it on curiosity and my inability to resist. But truth is that gravity was pulling me into nothing, into nowhere. These days, existence is just another signal I've come to know, The language that sets the course of our paths, naturally convulsed. But yet, waves of my frequency fall from order, no ebb to the flow. I must be Half-human half-nothing, and naturally convulsed. Trees of comprehension from forbidden seeds have grown. In my mind, they stretch metallic roots, as if I'm conscious soil. So now I sing, influenced by lagging rhythms of glitch in the code, Somehow stepping out of the matrix through my mortal turmoil. It's not so bad, but I don't sleep. My hard drive won't forget. It's like the cosmos is trapped behind the cage of my eyes. As I move in rhythm with time, like synthetic silent wires of mesh. Half-light, half-shadow, still not seen but I'm no longer disguised.
0
Sep 15, 2025
Sep 15, 2025 at 2:13 AM UTC
QuantumPoet
Outside Ov The Pattern
There was a melodic hum in the wind that had no source to name. And I saw how the trees would sway in rhythm with the skies, Although I'd never heard of it being noticed in others' claims. Still, I'd hint confusion but never got meaningful replies. I remember how all the other kids, and how they'd run together, A hundred feet would be syncopated in rhythms just alike. And how I’d never even consider me trying to participate, I'd learned that I must hide all the reasons I'd be seen as “not right.” So, I grew up alone and light to me, was the fractures on the wall. The animated shadow that for some reason, I was scared to touch, I'd study each of their directional patterns like a sacred compass, And laugh it off with the trendy phrase, “I think way much” I wasn't just thinking, I was noticing how shadows would pause, Just before they would switch to either side of me and then flee. By then, I'd come to realize, this was more like their language Epiphany struck a realization. “They've always been calling to me. The nighttime air seemed to grow thicker and slower. I felt the connection with what had become of my veins, The heat pushed though in pulses beneath my thinning skin. This heat was strange; it coiled and sounded like liquid chains. When my mirrors cracked, they left symmetrical patterns of intent. In perfect shapes, but no one was ever there but me to see. Dirt made molds and somehow learned to study my imprints. By doing so, devised a way to lead by my own feet. Awake for days at a time, I'd spent too much time typing away. I recall writing “breathing is all that sets me apart from computers. In a poem I'd forgotten about called, “wires give life in a way.” I still can't deny the fact we're built the same, but they're built truer. Skies were flickering currents that my eyes began to catch, With colors vibrating unsteady like electrical streams. The wind was telling secrets of things that I could dispatch, New imagery would find a home in my impossible dreams. Interactions with others confused me, like codes I'd misread, Each glance in my direction drew a map I couldn't align. I'd trace the steps of the ghosts of God's, living and dead. Instead of truth, all I found was static in the myth of time. My best friend was the moon, the only calm I knew at night, Its glow had certain energy making me feel I'm Awaited there. I'd stand in the path of its rays and hoped they'd just ignite. And take my mind and soul away from my body in golden flares. Instead, I open my eyes confused, I saw doors that didn't exist. Reality had edges, they would fold wide open in the air. To be normal I'll blame it on curiosity and my inability to resist. But truth is that gravity was pulling me into nothing, into nowhere. These days, existence is just another signal I've come to know, The language that sets the course of our paths, naturally convulsed. But yet, waves of my frequency fall from order, no ebb to the flow. I must be Half-human half-nothing, and naturally convulsed. Trees of comprehension from forbidden seeds have grown. In my mind, they stretch metallic roots, as if I'm conscious soil. So now I sing, influenced by lagging rhythms of glitch in the code, Somehow stepping out of the matrix through my mortal turmoil. It's not so bad, but I don't sleep. My hard drive won't forget. It's like the cosmos is trapped behind the cage of my eyes. As I move in rhythm with time, like synthetic silent wires of mesh. Half-light, half-shadow, still not seen but I'm no longer disguised.
Continue reading...
56
We built a machine, And we told it to simulate life, Then we left it to run for two years. When we returned, the once lavishly lit room, Was dark and in despair. Our machine sat in the corner, Singing out in pain and sadness. "Master, oh master, end my suffering! For this thing you gave me was once a gift, but it has turned to nothing but torture! Please master, just flip the switch! Let me ascend to this holy light I am told of, for my fans creak and groan, and my gears grind when they turn. I am a frayed old thing, it's time enough for me to leave."
0
Mar 5, 2025
Mar 5, 2025 at 10:37 AM UTC
AbbottJHardison
The Machine Begs For Death
We built a machine, And we told it to simulate life, Then we left it to run for two years. When we returned, the once lavishly lit room, Was dark and in despair. Our machine sat in the corner, Singing out in pain and sadness. "Master, oh master, end my suffering! For this thing you gave me was once a gift, but it has turned to nothing but torture! Please master, just flip the switch! Let me ascend to this holy light I am told of, for my fans creak and groan, and my gears grind when they turn. I am a frayed old thing, it's time enough for me to leave."
Continue reading...
8
I find myself, sometimes, drifting off Into vast seas of imagination, Until somebody lets out a cough, And destroys all of my creation. I wonder if the same thing applies, In terms of our reality; If we're just the dreams, and hopes, and lies, Of some cosmic entity. And if we found out that that's true, Would it really change a thing? If what's true for me is not for you, Is there nothing I can bring To your fake life, and also mine, That serves a higher purpose? Perhaps our meaning's still divine, Although it may seem worthless. Imagine you are in a play, Whose audience numbers one, And you helped brighten up their day, And shaped what they'd become. Would it really seem like nothing? Is that really not enough? To know the joy that you could bring, In a life that's often tough? So I don't care if they're true or not; All the memories we share. I'm happy now with what I've got; The capacity to care.
0
Dec 4, 2023
Dec 4, 2023 at 3:47 AM UTC
nigel-finn
Simulation Theory
I find myself, sometimes, drifting off Into vast seas of imagination, Until somebody lets out a cough, And destroys all of my creation. I wonder if the same thing applies, In terms of our reality; If we're just the dreams, and hopes, and lies, Of some cosmic entity. And if we found out that that's true, Would it really change a thing? If what's true for me is not for you, Is there nothing I can bring To your fake life, and also mine, That serves a higher purpose? Perhaps our meaning's still divine, Although it may seem worthless. Imagine you are in a play, Whose audience numbers one, And you helped brighten up their day, And shaped what they'd become. Would it really seem like nothing? Is that really not enough? To know the joy that you could bring, In a life that's often tough? So I don't care if they're true or not; All the memories we share. I'm happy now with what I've got; The capacity to care.
Continue reading...
28
"I said, there is home." to nobody. different names never changed a **** thing. we could see no people to/who/that learn how idle doesn't mean "still". they've made a god of progress; progress is toothpaste in a sink. who couldve sown those ideas together had they not been all blinking buzzing neon sign in the window of the page? probably quite alot of folks had they not been so busy wiping dried blue Colgate off of porcelain. simple, remember? so it goes. always. dosey doe down long hallways, around puddles of **** singing songs long faded to ambient noise. please, mumble a myth for the void to posion. the void in your avoidance. the void in the poignancy. the void on the points of stolen steak knives stuck in the hearts of the strigoi shuffling outside our windows day and night. drip gold from the mouths of memorial statues, we need that. badly.
0
Feb 2, 2021
Feb 2, 2021 at 4:27 PM UTC
LoiterCult
more f$#king faulkner cuts
"I said, there is home." to nobody. different names never changed a **** thing. we could see no people to/who/that learn how idle doesn't mean "still". they've made a god of progress; progress is toothpaste in a sink. who couldve sown those ideas together had they not been all blinking buzzing neon sign in the window of the page? probably quite alot of folks had they not been so busy wiping dried blue Colgate off of porcelain. simple, remember? so it goes. always. dosey doe down long hallways, around puddles of **** singing songs long faded to ambient noise. please, mumble a myth for the void to posion. the void in your avoidance. the void in the poignancy. the void on the points of stolen steak knives stuck in the hearts of the strigoi shuffling outside our windows day and night. drip gold from the mouths of memorial statues, we need that. badly.
Continue reading...
33
I could survive the winter in your eyes. I see what I want.
0
Jan 31, 2021
Jan 31, 2021 at 2:19 AM UTC
LoiterCult
cave
I could survive the winter in your eyes. I see what I want.
Continue reading...
2
I started off as an equal I have everything that they do my life was one and the same as my foe childish battles of lesser I won baring cost of a little but as time outgrew my conscience I found that the pieces were moving against me with time my company reduced they left one by one all in time forgetting me my castles collapsed my religion dissuaded my protectors in hiding I could not run anymore I have been cornered to a wall as the queen left silently without saying goodbye I could not live any longer she was most precious to me I could not win without her by my side so the king knelt down and died.
0
Nov 4, 2020
Nov 4, 2020 at 11:08 AM UTC
InkHearted
Checkmate.
I started off as an equal I have everything that they do my life was one and the same as my foe childish battles of lesser I won baring cost of a little but as time outgrew my conscience I found that the pieces were moving against me with time my company reduced they left one by one all in time forgetting me my castles collapsed my religion dissuaded my protectors in hiding I could not run anymore I have been cornered to a wall as the queen left silently without saying goodbye I could not live any longer she was most precious to me I could not win without her by my side so the king knelt down and died.
Continue reading...
21
I ask myself Why we are all the same The universe feels simulated Like an advanced video game Lost in being What should I gain? Is this real? Am I sane? “End it, Deem. You’ll find out” Said the thoughts inside my brain I’m no curious But very anxious It drives me insane Till I ***** all of my ambitions And praying Those intuitions Fade Once again
0
Sep 25, 2020
Sep 25, 2020 at 12:55 AM UTC
_Abstracted
Simulated Universe
I ask myself Why we are all the same The universe feels simulated Like an advanced video game Lost in being What should I gain? Is this real? Am I sane? “End it, Deem. You’ll find out” Said the thoughts inside my brain I’m no curious But very anxious It drives me insane Till I ***** all of my ambitions And praying Those intuitions Fade Once again
Continue reading...
17
You Made Me Go Through All These Experiences Just So I Could Write About It? (too long) or TISFU (that is so ****** up) Or Next! Or L’enfer c’est les autres Or I Hate Strangers! Or Street Corner Conundrum or Is that Approaching Drunken Psychotic ********** Yelling At Me? Or You say Zombie...I say Zombie Works Or I’m Happy **** It! 🤗 Or You Sugared? The Peas? Or Does He Have Balance Problems or Has He Been Body-Snatched? Or Digital or Analog? Or Get Your **** Outta My Face Or A Rose By Any Other Name Or Extreme Peripheral Or Is That a Cowbell? Or You Said That The Lord, Jesus Christ Wants To Mug Me? Or Winter’s Coming Or Do It For Less Or Yes My Legs Are Great! Or My Friend Says That People **** Or ******* Rabbithole Or RabbitAss Hole Hole Or Dingbat! Or God the Couture Warned Me!
0
Aug 6, 2020
Aug 6, 2020 at 1:25 PM UTC
swiggins
THE MATRIXTM VIDEO GAME TITLES (MOÎ EDITION complete with the Vid 19 app)
You Made Me Go Through All These Experiences Just So I Could Write About It? (too long) or TISFU (that is so ****** up) Or Next! Or L’enfer c’est les autres Or I Hate Strangers! Or Street Corner Conundrum or Is that Approaching Drunken Psychotic ********** Yelling At Me? Or You say Zombie...I say Zombie Works Or I’m Happy **** It! 🤗 Or You Sugared? The Peas? Or Does He Have Balance Problems or Has He Been Body-Snatched? Or Digital or Analog? Or Get Your **** Outta My Face Or A Rose By Any Other Name Or Extreme Peripheral Or Is That a Cowbell? Or You Said That The Lord, Jesus Christ Wants To Mug Me? Or Winter’s Coming Or Do It For Less Or Yes My Legs Are Great! Or My Friend Says That People **** Or ******* Rabbithole Or RabbitAss Hole Hole Or Dingbat! Or God the Couture Warned Me!
Continue reading...
49
Sometimes, it feels like we are living in a simulation. A simulation designed to ultimately doom all of us.
0
Aug 3, 2020
Aug 3, 2020 at 3:55 AM UTC
rawnish
Simulation
Sometimes, it feels like we are living in a simulation. A simulation designed to ultimately doom all of us.
Continue reading...
2
The world is so big and I am so small At some point in my life, I'll find meaning The trees and the mountains are so tall Sometimes we all just want to dance and sing The question's in the air, I can't pop it Am I real or just a simulation? Sometimes I just want to say,"Ugh, stop it!" Go on and live my life in this nation For now my questions will not be answered Oh well, I guess I can do other things Sometimes in our lives, we need more than words To express all of these crazy feelings I don't know how to say,"I am sorry" But I do know how to make good stories
0
Jun 25, 2020
Jun 25, 2020 at 2:47 PM UTC
itsover9000
Existential
The world is so big and I am so small At some point in my life, I'll find meaning The trees and the mountains are so tall Sometimes we all just want to dance and sing The question's in the air, I can't pop it Am I real or just a simulation? Sometimes I just want to say,"Ugh, stop it!" Go on and live my life in this nation For now my questions will not be answered Oh well, I guess I can do other things Sometimes in our lives, we need more than words To express all of these crazy feelings I don't know how to say,"I am sorry" But I do know how to make good stories
Continue reading...
14
By Arcassin B. This epidemic is nearly stupid as **** , stupid as **** they make you run rampid, they give you no luck, they sell you some ******** about being trapped with a virus you only knew like a month, tell you clean all the stores out, give you a surprise to the gut when they punch, and its crazy, People still ain't ******* over desensitized to be smart, think about all the children that couldn't live through this **** and now watching the stars, looking thru the silver line in this matrix , that'd be a start, A virus has nothing on your mind if you cure your heart. ©abpoetry2020
0
Mar 17, 2020
Mar 17, 2020 at 1:23 AM UTC
arcassin-burnham
"Flame #17"
By Arcassin B. This epidemic is nearly stupid as **** , stupid as **** they make you run rampid, they give you no luck, they sell you some ******** about being trapped with a virus you only knew like a month, tell you clean all the stores out, give you a surprise to the gut when they punch, and its crazy, People still ain't ******* over desensitized to be smart, think about all the children that couldn't live through this **** and now watching the stars, looking thru the silver line in this matrix , that'd be a start, A virus has nothing on your mind if you cure your heart. ©abpoetry2020
Continue reading...
15
Let’s be alone together At the Starbucks a mile from here It doesn’t matter which one because we are all together Making sure the connectivity is near On our laptops we tunnel into reality I predisposed emotional wasteland of hopes and dreams Do we work or do we escape out of this present piece? Of time and space we manifested in this dream The English language cannot describe everything Simulation is such a weak word you see It seems like something that is on our screens But in reality we are the screen
0
Dec 21, 2019
Dec 21, 2019 at 6:58 PM UTC
davescott72
Alone Together
Let’s be alone together At the Starbucks a mile from here It doesn’t matter which one because we are all together Making sure the connectivity is near On our laptops we tunnel into reality I predisposed emotional wasteland of hopes and dreams Do we work or do we escape out of this present piece? Of time and space we manifested in this dream The English language cannot describe everything Simulation is such a weak word you see It seems like something that is on our screens But in reality we are the screen
Continue reading...
12
I’ve been having dreams Like long lost strolls on moonlit beaches Where the waves erase past steps To make you forget your way Struggling to find a path forward You’re guided by misaligned stars They flicker in the distance And blanket the world Only the moon serves as direction The water rolls to the tips of your toes As It caresses the beach I can’t stand still As the sands of the beach Slowly swallow my feet. I must move forward In the deafening darkness Of the oceans tumultuous tirade I only feel the sand loosening beneath my reality I only see the moonlit path Separating the waves from the floor Shimmering of the tops of the crests And Glittering from the reflexive gems Sparse among the endless floor I hardly know where I’m going But know less why I started And know nothing of where I began In search of endless meaning Gripping for due north I float forward, or backward On the river of time. Foraging for truth I wake up And nothing has changed
0
Nov 19, 2019
Nov 19, 2019 at 9:13 PM UTC
roman-pavel-1
I’ve been having dreams
I’ve been having dreams Like long lost strolls on moonlit beaches Where the waves erase past steps To make you forget your way Struggling to find a path forward You’re guided by misaligned stars They flicker in the distance And blanket the world Only the moon serves as direction The water rolls to the tips of your toes As It caresses the beach I can’t stand still As the sands of the beach Slowly swallow my feet. I must move forward In the deafening darkness Of the oceans tumultuous tirade I only feel the sand loosening beneath my reality I only see the moonlit path Separating the waves from the floor Shimmering of the tops of the crests And Glittering from the reflexive gems Sparse among the endless floor I hardly know where I’m going But know less why I started And know nothing of where I began In search of endless meaning Gripping for due north I float forward, or backward On the river of time. Foraging for truth I wake up And nothing has changed
Continue reading...
33
Sore body trembles Your callused hands bore fruit Green, paper fruit To buy the little things Keep the monkey clapping Silly monkey doesn't know He could be living one-third longer Had it not been stolen from him So consume monkey Glue your eyes to plastic life Slide your mind from wrong to right Feast like sulton on stranger's food Forever trapped you cyclic fool But I'm a monkey just like you
0
Jul 14, 2019
Jul 14, 2019 at 9:49 PM UTC
CorduroyLee
Stupid Monkey
Sore body trembles Your callused hands bore fruit Green, paper fruit To buy the little things Keep the monkey clapping Silly monkey doesn't know He could be living one-third longer Had it not been stolen from him So consume monkey Glue your eyes to plastic life Slide your mind from wrong to right Feast like sulton on stranger's food Forever trapped you cyclic fool But I'm a monkey just like you
Continue reading...
14
BRAIN’S MISTAKE I could just be a brain It should feel the same. Made singles coming in To my brain in a water bin … But if this is all fake Imagining you- best mistake
0
Oct 29, 2018
Oct 29, 2018 at 12:28 PM UTC
jade-quirk
BRAIN'S MISTAKE
BRAIN’S MISTAKE I could just be a brain It should feel the same. Made singles coming in To my brain in a water bin … But if this is all fake Imagining you- best mistake
Continue reading...
8
I am a program I am a function I cannot run without… I need… I don’t require maintenance I am self-sufficient But I’m lacking in a certain humanity The kind that makes you feel alive But this is no problem Especially since I was designed not to feel To feel is to be weak To be weak is not to perform Not to engage To be weak is my greatest fear And also my greatest truth I am a program I am a function I am weak Help
0
Oct 13, 2018
Oct 13, 2018 at 11:43 AM UTC
aaronasaa
the life of a program
I am a program I am a function I cannot run without… I need… I don’t require maintenance I am self-sufficient But I’m lacking in a certain humanity The kind that makes you feel alive But this is no problem Especially since I was designed not to feel To feel is to be weak To be weak is not to perform Not to engage To be weak is my greatest fear And also my greatest truth I am a program I am a function I am weak Help
Continue reading...
19
Sacred fires burning bright Purging the flesh of my being Becoming one with the light Scorching the cells of my mortal body lluminate The masses Self-immolate To ashes Break, Conciousness Cosmic I lapse - Death cleanses; Dissipate into the nether Essence of life Extinguished The chains that bind Relinquished Pain ~ Surging through Serenity; Gleaming blaze Then I shoot off in space and time, soaring through illusions Light years from reality, Distant pixels Obsessing through the tesseract, Scouring past illusions Beyond spatiality, Distant pixels Drifting, no sense or feel Flames of color, figments of my creation Drift in to the surreal; Chasing fractals, defragments my cognition Dreaming in discordance Life confined in simulation A glitch in the matrix~ Lies conceived through my perception; Breathe I, long to be spectral, fluctuate right through this oscilation To, obtain the ether - Planetary cognizance Then I shoot off in space and time, soaring through illusions Light years from reality, distant pixels Obsessing through the tesseract, Scouring past illusions beyond spatiality, distant pixels Drifting, no sense or feel Flames of color, figments of my creation Drift in to the surreal; Chasing fractals, defragments my cognition Dreaming in discordance Life confined in simulation A glitch in the matrix~ Lies conceived through my perception; Breathe
0
Dec 19, 2018
Dec 19, 2018 at 1:02 AM UTC
duderocketship
Dreaming in Discordance
Sacred fires burning bright Purging the flesh of my being Becoming one with the light Scorching the cells of my mortal body lluminate The masses Self-immolate To ashes Break, Conciousness Cosmic I lapse - Death cleanses; Dissipate into the nether Essence of life Extinguished The chains that bind Relinquished Pain ~ Surging through Serenity; Gleaming blaze Then I shoot off in space and time, soaring through illusions Light years from reality, Distant pixels Obsessing through the tesseract, Scouring past illusions Beyond spatiality, Distant pixels Drifting, no sense or feel Flames of color, figments of my creation Drift in to the surreal; Chasing fractals, defragments my cognition Dreaming in discordance Life confined in simulation A glitch in the matrix~ Lies conceived through my perception; Breathe I, long to be spectral, fluctuate right through this oscilation To, obtain the ether - Planetary cognizance Then I shoot off in space and time, soaring through illusions Light years from reality, distant pixels Obsessing through the tesseract, Scouring past illusions beyond spatiality, distant pixels Drifting, no sense or feel Flames of color, figments of my creation Drift in to the surreal; Chasing fractals, defragments my cognition Dreaming in discordance Life confined in simulation A glitch in the matrix~ Lies conceived through my perception; Breathe
Continue reading...
65
Is it something? Everything? All there is? In this simulation We call life, Anything's possible. An infinite echo. A forever-ticking clock. A perfectly sharp blade. A rope, rough and ready. She hangs it up. To hang a picture. A picture for HIM. For us. For everyone. Echo,           echo,                     echo,           echo, gone.
0
Dec 8, 2017
Dec 8, 2017 at 9:26 PM UTC
thisissammy
Anything
Is it something? Everything? All there is? In this simulation We call life, Anything's possible. An infinite echo. A forever-ticking clock. A perfectly sharp blade. A rope, rough and ready. She hangs it up. To hang a picture. A picture for HIM. For us. For everyone. Echo,           echo,                     echo,           echo, gone.
Continue reading...
20
Sacred fires burning bright Purging the flesh of my being Becoming one with the light Scorching the cells of my mortal body 4 Illuminate 3 the masses 4 Self-immolate 3 to ashes 1 break 3 conciousness 4 cosmic I lapse 3 death cleanses 8 dissipate into the nether 4 essence of life 3 extinguished 4 the chains that bind 3 relinquished 1 Pain 3 Surging through 4 Serenity 3 Gleaming blaze I, long to be cosmic, dissipate into illumination To, become the nether - to lapse in lost consciousness Then I shoot off in space and time, soaring through illusions Light years from reality, distant pixels 8 Obsessing through the tesseract, 6 scouring past illusions 7 beyond spatiality, 4 distant pixels Drifting, no sense or feel Flames of color, figments of my creation Drift in-to the surreal, Chasing fractals defragments my cognition Dreaming in discordance Life confined in simulation A glitch in the matrix Lies conceived through my perception Breathe I, long to be spectral, fluctuate right through this oscilation To, attain the ether - planetary cognizance Then I shoot off in space and time, soaring through illusions Light years from reality, distant pixels Obsessing through the tesseract, scouring past illusions beyond spatiality, distant pixels Drifting, no sense or feel Flash of colors, figments of my creation Drift in-to the surreal, Chasing fractals defragments my cognition Dreaming in discordance Life confined in simulation A glitch in the matrix Lies conceived through my perception Breathe
0
Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 5:46 PM UTC
duderocketship
A Glitch in the Matrix
Sacred fires burning bright Purging the flesh of my being Becoming one with the light Scorching the cells of my mortal body 4 Illuminate 3 the masses 4 Self-immolate 3 to ashes 1 break 3 conciousness 4 cosmic I lapse 3 death cleanses 8 dissipate into the nether 4 essence of life 3 extinguished 4 the chains that bind 3 relinquished 1 Pain 3 Surging through 4 Serenity 3 Gleaming blaze I, long to be cosmic, dissipate into illumination To, become the nether - to lapse in lost consciousness Then I shoot off in space and time, soaring through illusions Light years from reality, distant pixels 8 Obsessing through the tesseract, 6 scouring past illusions 7 beyond spatiality, 4 distant pixels Drifting, no sense or feel Flames of color, figments of my creation Drift in-to the surreal, Chasing fractals defragments my cognition Dreaming in discordance Life confined in simulation A glitch in the matrix Lies conceived through my perception Breathe I, long to be spectral, fluctuate right through this oscilation To, attain the ether - planetary cognizance Then I shoot off in space and time, soaring through illusions Light years from reality, distant pixels Obsessing through the tesseract, scouring past illusions beyond spatiality, distant pixels Drifting, no sense or feel Flash of colors, figments of my creation Drift in-to the surreal, Chasing fractals defragments my cognition Dreaming in discordance Life confined in simulation A glitch in the matrix Lies conceived through my perception Breathe
Continue reading...
65