Pendulum swing, swing. Up, down and round.
Rusty machines, oil us up and watch the mechanisms whir once more. Are you deaf, dumb or blind did you forget we chimed before? That's an insult. It's a new age though and we're updated on such a basis you'd assume it was just outdated. Political correctness gone, forgiven for ignorance (because isn't it bliss - the oldnew drug). Out of mind, bent out of shape. The system works doesn't it? So, no fuck you.
Card house built so high with your skills that make you heavenly. They translate in all parts of your life. Does that make you so much better? A kingdom for you to rule upon high. Happiness is happy, as long as you are happy with it. It's the last call and pushed people go through the door, downing their tomorrows from the glass as they go. One look and it tumbles down and down and down and down. Clumsy are these cards, indeed.
Broke literary power rules, now its lost the control over the reader, anarchy taking baby steps. Irony.
Told us we're gonna die anyway, but starting to think we should enjoy it before the forever ends is a new concept - one that takes some getting used to at times. Nightmares don't disappear over-day.
Black glitters. So bound by the night and only love the morning dusk a little. Air is so very vital, has anyone told that to the noose? Little owl, wise as you are, tell me what to do.
You don't even want to know what I see behind closed eyes.
Written, the above, quite some time ago, let us see what the new year has to offer:
So you shall see.
Quite some time passes. Calendars are replaced and new days greet you
with the sense of before. You've lived this day, but at a different
time, a moment unparallel to the right now. It is gripped tightly in your fingers, though no tension exists. Palms upturn and it hops lightly onto your shoulders, where it comfortably sits, cradling your neck. A warmth that serves purpose, only when decided upon. We can call some moments comforting. At the same time in a late time, we may see it as stifling. In this way, do we choose our own oppressions? What we make of them?
"Yeah, I said forever."
friend of ours is becoming no more as they change beyond recognition.
Are we to fight the freshly unfamiliar departure or let them be? Is it responsibility until we name it that? We have
our familiars and those we must guard as we are entrusted to keep them
unharmed. We cannot understand, we cannot, just can't - this is LOUD, this is REPEATED, this is CONSUMING.
A fundamental difference between hoping and expectation. What you called concrete, I called potential. What you called a fixed sinking sand, I called the chance for all kinds of adventure. What you called wrong, we called love. Dear you, you are so lost on goodness and selflessness. He cannot make good, for reasons beyond control.
And so, you shall hopefully, optimistically, see.
I love, and this is life in return?