The longest battle I''ll never win. A scripture versed in the waning words of an already dead language. A vanity bearing unbearable exhaustion that prunes
time does nothing but work against me. I wake alone and walk alone between the walls that insecurity has built around me. forced into circuits, into
I've never wanted to admit the absolute and to its no absolution. that with much knowledge comes much anguish. that privity becomes Pandora''s plague
Nail down in contempt all that threatens with thought or bother. A crusade of listlessness and obedience to prosthetic actuality. Our effortless evasion
Enumerate the nameless and the unarticulated. Falsify their saintliness and chisel them into stone. From the distance I can hear your silence and I beg
Gagged and bound in pen and ink dead fall. The reiteration. The shallow depth of words that no one ever hears. There is numbness in speaking meaningless
The stories are always the same and the excuses even more familiar. Another generation of slaves and masters coughed up and reswallowed. Another stagnant
dare to speak of hope and aspiration. these foul words, manufactured idols and the bait of lemmings. only futility is eternity. only one sunrise will
Here are the lines of the ultimate fabrication. The sickening irony of adhesion to unallied hypocrisy. Playing self written, wound licking roles in sob
And if at any time it should fall, I will raise and carry the banner of hopelessness and lead its war. I would die in theatre for that which itself is
Let this stand as a monument to my abandonment and submission to the clutches of consumption. A penance of control for the iniquity of breath. It is
When will we concede that there is an absolute significance deficit concept of the human being. The rape is indigenous to our existence and that already
equation of ambition and subsistence file the sum less lines of the mortgaged. an annexation to the droning. insomniatic servitude to an infinity of misery
I can no longer deny or disavow that there is a part of me that is a part of it. A process regenerated by process reciprocating godhead apparatus that
These are the debit souls. Force fed notions of nation and bearing rags of sovereigns yet to fall. They play servant to lines in the sane. They are the
