Starwalker, always forward.
Laying back in the cut, will see the shine mired
Though history beat you, will you admit an empire?
Substitutions, ruthless junipers,
tailed high as the atlas clouds, spired flight fancied to strange attractive might
As long as you have sight, don’t admit derision.
Focus whims and motivation to true vision.
Always forward, Starwalker, Always forward.
Even in the messy messy, drip drip,
cosmic irony resounds.
A throne, among bones, lizards, neck slashers, and oblong light cones.
A sweaty victory for mankind is what kind of result for God?
Swords and plowshares? While sweat and symmetry leak onto us. Dim.
Thus, the pool of orgasmo acid holds our destiny, manifested by crests of epiphany.
Ride warrior, ride on. Embolden the result of slimy disposition.
Never waver from uncomfortable yet unavoidable positions.
Christian truth wears no badge but infinitely mortal wisdom.
Tears streaming down my face
The pain is darkening my soul
I beckon for death but call for life
What I’d really like is an end to the strife
Always thinking about who I am, who I was, what made me to suffer
I really don’t know anymore but to think about the hurt seems to make me feel better
I don’t know what this life is for, I’m not even sure if it’s worth anything
I am a tortured soul, with a faint after glow
I really wonder when it will finally snow, or if it will just break the bow, and defeat my chains of conflictedness and bound verdict in the misery that has forsaken me.
Just be swift please.
A destiny by another name
Still in the back of my mind
Can’t seem to forget, erase, or unwind
Nightmare still pulsing like a dark orbits decline
A meaning for broken-ness,
a tool for tropic thunder,
To unspill the unsavory guts of an ego that blundered?
Was it for destiny to correct the path of a runner?
Bleeding love, kindness, and regret, so that main char could sputter.
Only choking and feeling fumes, noxious and realizing groomed,
at that moment of wringing, information and dark deception having seen it.
Spire atop the spectrum of shadows dancing lightly and echoing
A pyramid of causality cries out and beckons. But dead wreckoning is a reality of mortality.
Percolating, emanating, waves and split curves, splines divorced from ripped worlds.
This world is too much for me. That world is not enough for me.
But creeping ravens must lift us all. The iron curtain of grim rapture makes men of us all, crossing the rainbow bridge to the land before time. Eyes dead with understanding as love passes from color to color. Charmed, face filled with eternity, facing the unknown with enmity. Scarlet haze, take me.
An interjection, a dot of determinism
Disguised unaffirmed rhythms
What is the cardinality of the unknown?
Is the universe holding faces,
Are the deuces tied from threads?
Note to self,
A constant shrouded by measurement and fuss
Routes hyperflex forcing might into dust
It appears that a derivation is in order
But just like it oughta, the lamb is a cat
A box you can’t slaughter
Titans clash while I decay to ash
Of magnus proportion, ten thousand suns
I stand unitary, solitary, mind before sums
To think, to marvel, at a great animation
Synchronously burning with my heartbeat, foundation
Looking up at the sky, the spirals they trace
My time intersecting, illuminating a
A chance of pure will
You must love she says
A chance of pure strength
You must live she says
Who am I to stand idle while the abstract asks for the focus,
to dapple in purpose, and dance with the Opus
Magnificence of grouping, a lie continuously looping