Benefit
Bluelighter
Eloquent Delirium
We sit, always, straining our eyes to see the shapes
That appear on distant horizons
Souls soaked with dirty memories
Of people, faces, places
Long forgotten.
The narrow hallway of time
Passes me on the left and right
Compressing all matter into a distant
Pinprick, that cries out
For a companion.
I can’t help but wonder
Why these things are
Why they do not change
And why they slowly eat away at us
On the inside.
I sit, reminiscing, reflecting
On the pale faces of ghosts
That dart in and out of my mind
Or men trapped in a cage, attempting
However vain, to elude the grasp of the power wielders
And power makers.
We can only try to grasp these ultimate truths;
Seize them as we have seized so much power
Yet we can only watch as they slip away
Outstretched fingers calling a solemn question
That is never answered.
The soft hum of a moth’s wings
Brush my ears
And bring me back to a state
Where life is real and pointed
Where the strong smell of Earth fills
My nostrils, lifts me up to heights
Unimaginable
And brings me back safely to where my feet
Touch soil.
It is here, and only here,
Hidden deep inside where no one knows,
That the passion of a thousand years
Rages, builds to a final climactic orgasm
Where wind whips at our feet
And waves beat along the sandy shores
Where dead men feel the tug of a thousand weights
And living men flinch in the
Onslaught of humanity, molten hot
With the dreams of a million lives.
And it is here
Where titans collide
Where mountains shake
And oceans cower,
That I find myself.
And I am alone.
We sit, always, straining our eyes to see the shapes
That appear on distant horizons
Souls soaked with dirty memories
Of people, faces, places
Long forgotten.
The narrow hallway of time
Passes me on the left and right
Compressing all matter into a distant
Pinprick, that cries out
For a companion.
I can’t help but wonder
Why these things are
Why they do not change
And why they slowly eat away at us
On the inside.
I sit, reminiscing, reflecting
On the pale faces of ghosts
That dart in and out of my mind
Or men trapped in a cage, attempting
However vain, to elude the grasp of the power wielders
And power makers.
We can only try to grasp these ultimate truths;
Seize them as we have seized so much power
Yet we can only watch as they slip away
Outstretched fingers calling a solemn question
That is never answered.
The soft hum of a moth’s wings
Brush my ears
And bring me back to a state
Where life is real and pointed
Where the strong smell of Earth fills
My nostrils, lifts me up to heights
Unimaginable
And brings me back safely to where my feet
Touch soil.
It is here, and only here,
Hidden deep inside where no one knows,
That the passion of a thousand years
Rages, builds to a final climactic orgasm
Where wind whips at our feet
And waves beat along the sandy shores
Where dead men feel the tug of a thousand weights
And living men flinch in the
Onslaught of humanity, molten hot
With the dreams of a million lives.
And it is here
Where titans collide
Where mountains shake
And oceans cower,
That I find myself.
And I am alone.
