I bring forth
to portray,
as well as my intentions,
allow The Earth,
to lay down a heavy burden;
staring me across
some lonely halls.
No longer, will I cast,
my nest
unto the shadows.
I've become
too shallow,
to keep
devouring out the sea,
in search for islands
of summer winds...
Nor more verses
shall become.
Tender.
A cacophony
of silence
to my senses.
I've grown quite dull
to watch you play,
alone with umbras,
instead, the humbleness
of sand.
My words are
for you alone
to carry.
My burden,
for you to take it out
to its final
galore.
Human values,
always turn
to rather unpleasant
greyish detours.
I concur,
the shards necessary
to further evolve.
A glow,
the smut.
It's time to find some
other chores to scorn
about
and beyond.
Leave the aesthetics,
all of them behind,
for here we shan't
need them
to gallop anymore...
Just vomit inside me
your letters to The Void
and behold...
Loneliness
is yet another
level up, after all:
The Desperate Struggle
To Try To Find The Perfect Drug.
So, grab your toy tools,
from the sides,
let's shape new formats
unto the sky...
The Ocean's ever hungrier,
and of course,
much happier.
It forms an obtuse barrier
to keep what seems to you
Ever Above.
You can't touch the water yet, no...
Underground, it's where He lays the source.
We have to entrain the mind.
And bend if out of time.
We're running out of tries
to give...
Everlasting warmth
to the clay.
For we shall watch it rise
to take The Day.
The Night speaks lovely
tonalities of frost.
As the scar tissue.
Just now, stops the growth.
We're dispersed.
We're weakened in our state.
We're spied upon, and spayed,
despised by the
same reflection
we catch staring in the water,
when dropping down
to pray.
Beneath...
To breathe once more.
Get to die far away from shores.
I know well who you are.
Alas, do you?
Reach for me.
Grasp the hold
of thousand stares that come
before your very first
gasp of tainted
breath.
Let if flow, the innards,
of your soul.
A fresh zephyr
out of shell.
And peace.
Coming from below...
Too many times.
Trying to fail inwards.
When we could have just
crash outwards the rim.
Piercing up the final atmosphere,
putting pressure out of will.
Fulfills then promise
of letting me see
The Sea.
We've tried, countless times,
to find a Light.
Inside the impossible corners
of any room
we've encountered.
We rejected, far too many times,
approaches from
The Dark.
As it shows itself
a new way out
of all The Rumble.
A Curse, or maybe better,
faith-given Alms?
With no one left
to get in the way.
Time, finally,
to open up
The Box.
With no one else to keep me.
I'm going to burst open
the final hatch of
The Hutch.
