sábado, 23 de noviembre de 2024

An Exit. A Light. (A Cave too Cold to Hide)

 

 

 

Chasing voices, chasing echoes.

 

Relocate your tempo,

 

and put it into question.

 

Out of question, and garage,


fits the problem: a solution;


too much, too bold.

 

 

To handle.

 

 

My rusted bars

 

that set

 

pretenses

 

on demand.

 

 

Begs the effort

 

to cast investigations

 

and search, deep inside,

 

where no light touches a beacon,

 

but its Founder.



The rupture, now assertion,


the dominance of its trolley.

 

My problem

 

isn't mentions.

 

It's a lack of

 

proper motivation.

 

 

As apparatus, out of  measure.


My demented voices


put to paper... 

 

My intentions.



I want to see the world...


And watch It down my gullet.



Propel myself from


a character in the back


to the Protagonist


we'll become...

 

 

Hollow, nay never,


a morrow

 

of deathless sorrow.

 

 

My solitude.

 

Shapes the paper of a Master

 

to forge the chains around our

 

chances to strike

 

Gold

 

while we watch, nonsensical,

 

the river bleed out


its darker hues.

 

 

I

 

will never feel

 

remorse for the unbroken.


 

But

 

I shall too


cast my empathy unto


the hopeless.



Never watch me kneel.


For Kings of Falsehood.


Or Damsels of Endeavor.



Gaze upon

 

The Threshold.


And lie the guilt

 

of previous lives, ascension.



Into the blazes of growth.


An Evolution

 

will advent.


 

A filthy wave of


inaction.


Dissociates


my inner sanctum.



From the stains of its trail


I draw the positions


of my cards.



And from their shards


I can see into

 

the prospect of


Tomorrow's


Play - Park.



Linking


my frivolous


trials and errors.


I forgot to look into


the meadow.

 


Stare into

 

the endless eyes


of Neptune.



Find the forbidden hexagon


in between the palpitating


tensions.


And tremors.



A shake so surround it


crumbles.



The mass is now on sulfur


living so far the fumes


allow the motion.



All movement.


Can forfeit.



My steps.

 

Will leave burnt marks

 

in concrete.

 

 

I feel the Crimson Star.

 

I see the Ethereal Dawn.

 

 

I watch the Unspoken Hours.

 

And I cast aside my Proper Shadows.

 

 

And yet...

 

 

How come life feels to shine

 

when I'm walking far away

 

from You.

 

 

 Out of time.


And out of order.



It's a shame we couldn't find


a somber


moment


to exist.




Alas, Life will guide the furthest shores...



And I shall see you all.

 

 

Arrive.

 

 

 

Come on

 

 

Dawn.

 

 

I'll be waiting back...

 

 

 

 

Outside.





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