Haters gonna hate
Why is the importance to tie this reality down to the ground so much more than excuses giving in daily sermons across spectrums of common belief. How are we thieves of time and trash of the benign. Trying to share these lanes with demons brings the devil in me. Found without the mercy one would expect. To drive this tour into the sea of clouds that bring about the next stage to feel my way thru darkness. It use to b so bright back then. To summon the highest beam of light for my pen. The lights still there. The lights stiil there..
Supposedly there’s a revival outside waiting for those who are willing to touch the love with one hand but shove hate with the other. I don’t look down upon you , …..sister, …..brother. Is this endless sea shallow for them and deeper for the likes of you and me? Maybe projecting these images on some counter balanced screen will do wonders even if there’s only time enough to catch the horizons last beams. Of light and chances that shoot spectrum’s of hues and greys, to pry open third eyes and resurrect the dead senses as it may turn these stone statues back to the rush of blood and guts in-turn restoring the reality that was lost to us. Boundaries attempts to limit only push away the seconds we’ve given along with feathers pulled out from angel crash-landings and demons last wishes of dying for some stretch farther than their curse. To be happy with a plight in life is far worse than burning new trails through sacrifice. Scars on my body hint at lessons which conjure up the ectoplasm from my previous long-lasting conversation with the spirits. Keep leading me to a plain that’ll set free a soul willing to take faiths leap, to fall into the unknown and reveal the bliss within this chaos we breathe.
Pencil shavings scatter the floor and papers follow suit. The bent frames of these old portraits staring back at those who dare bat an eye lid tell a story of the traditions i feel are best forgotten. Lets see Lets see. Steps in the dark leave us feeling the air as we reach out, finger tips with cracked nails are parted Lets bleed Lets bleed On to the last good fights to bind our honor, regardless if empathy or the same damned hatred thats always pulled us down is worked dry to cast shapes and leave them asking the questions why.
Another casualty sinks one more nail in a coffin large enough to fit us all. Even if hope dont float while declining further between our coughs. Is it really so bad to reserve nightmares for those it may give concerns. Cause if your caught out in that acid rain, might as well move regardless of how little it burns. Decipher the quote in part of emotions we’ve known to early to tell this place from a haven or some corner of hell. But concrete breaks on impact against a unrelenting force So if anything its probably best in my evolution to absorb.