I awoke to a morning of such brief beauties,
How strange these new realities are,
I'm somewhat scared but would like to claim the euphoria,
On a daily basis I'm now leaving my own mind ajar.

It's a risk and I have been delving deeper by the day,
I never knew my own consciousness could be so foreign,
I've been introspecting since my youth but found new territory today,
There is a prospect that is positive or perhaps it is peril, when you cross the mind's old imperious margin.

Sporadically, I miss you,
Always, I need you,
My great comfort of the past, destroyed,
A snow soul turned to coal, no longer a soul, just a void.

Awake and therefore hating,
Everything but creating,
Made in the image and likeness,
Of this great chaos and detritus.

Your religion did debase my very nature,
It made moribund my might and lukewarm my temperature,
The thief in the night robbed me of hope by adumbrating that eschatological night,
And fate struck a deal with tyrannical tedium to dilute my delight.

A red thread of shame is tightly woven into our silenced souls,
An inherited madness dripped its way down to whoever works the controls,
This nebulous state, this numb state, it's our common default setting,
Here we all are, blind to the brain trick, content in our worldwide forgetting.

Nothing like a perpetually distracted brain to box away the brilliance,
Put that box back in the cupboard, don't you dare invite **** dissonance,
And remember when the party guests arrive, silence is insulting,
Privacy is suspicious, mystery is annoying and thoughts kept to yourself are revolting.

Show us romance, show us pretty, let us always see the screen,
Give us an abundance of fake new reality, let us turn on the simulation rain,
We would like to see her and we would like to see him while pretending we're the ones having fun,
Dopamine is leading the way for us all, our ruling neurotransmitter, our kindly king hormone.

I feel a pull to you,
A gravitational pull,
My mind is full of you,
It is excessively full.

I need a break from this,
A remote kind of break,
Not yours but nature's kiss,
I do know what's at stake.

I had a dream of it,
A bad kind of dream,
Anger you tried to elicit,
You're not what you seem.

My hope coloured my iris,
Temporarily blind,
I can't wade through this detritus,
I have to leave it behind.

Love is real you know?
So many taint its truth,
It is as bold as sun and snow,
And its nature is uncouth.

All encompassing? true.
I could not fathom that,
Oh, but now I do,
It is gold made for the sewer rat.

Desperation within these darker places,
I have an ironed out yearning to bid farewell to those faces,
Who chase me down their corridors of boredom,
I'm towel dried by routine and so stripped of wisdom.

That slithering hand around that cold, lifeless face,
****** and clockwise at one insipid pace,
Tells me I'm late and I've just missed mirth's deadline,
So here I am, consigned to this, life's callous, common flatline.

But I will rage and I will curse at the dust and dawn,
I'll think tightly of a polished image and forget that despotic yawn,
I'll beg truth to show me beauty, ardor and distress,
And I will open my enervated eyes to this old miraculous mess.

Like a monster behind a smile or a devil in a daydream,
Like a job that seems worthwhile but is just a boulder in your stream,
Like the sweet gesture of a friend whose agenda comes out to play,
Or the secret broken hearts of men, whose songs stay hidden from the day.

I find you in the quiet word someone uttered against my name,
I find you in the brazen herd, who are so generous with blame,
I find you when the clock dictates my precious moments here,
And you are there in the silent hate, dilating in the eyes of fear.

I met you as a child when I was denied comfort's cloak,
I met you in the loneliness of which a tired old man spoke,
I met you in the hunger and the whip of colder winters,
You meet me again when I face the hurt and try to remove the splinters.

You knew me when I stabbed a heart with the venom of my words,
You knew me when I clipped the wings of all those kindness birds,
You knew me in the times I frowned when loving words were spoken,
How well you know me now in this reflection that is broken.

But your shadow waits behind you, ever whispering wisest of words,
Your shadow, who knows more than you, can even lure out the bluebirds,
Your shadow carries power and pain and is as unkind as youth,
Your shadow is morality's vein, your shadow is the truth.

The hour for fervour seems faded,
Yet flickers appear like fireflies in our tenebrous sky,
The farce of our fickle society has invaded,
But minds knowing nature will know hope is nigh.

Injustice ever growing like a tangled ivy,
Weaving our complex prison of mind,
We awake to no passion, no boldness to see,
And we pass eachother on our streets, we who are willingly blind.

I didn't ask for this, did you?
Where is the thief of mirth and freedom and bliss?
Who decided to descend the haze and fog no eye can see through?
It wasn't me, it wasn't you, it was us and apathy's kiss.

There are still flashes of redemption in the dark,
And sometimes you will meet those who are themselves the flame,
And sometimes slightly will the fog ascend, just as did the Lark,
And we must no let those who brandish their power make the mind of the Lark tame.