Into The Wild

Serpentine patterns, so serene, so sure

Walking between the minuscule pathway that separated the road
from the wiring, I found myself looking out beyond the horizon. My gaze took to
the crescent-shaped glow that the distant sun moulded between the hazed sky and
the mountaintops.
It was times like these where I found myself at my most intuitive.

Call it wishful thinking or misplaced hope, it was only when I was here, lost in
the meditative-like trance that I thought of home.

Vacant eyes repelling those approaching.

Not in a reminiscing kind of way mind you. More of a kind
reminder that with each step I was drifting away from the destiny that I had so
often rejected, that my faith in fate itself was forevermore denounced.

I didn’t need the other side of a confession box to pass on
this wisdom, nor did I wish it seek me out. But I knew it was looking for me,
just like I was once looking for it.
‘It’ being the higher power that we force ourselves to devote
our lives and our livelihoods to, basking in the glow of its cosmic rays, a
futile lifestyle in which my reward comes with deaths bittersweet release.

Chapter 2

Monday’s shore, seen all the more
Shallow springs of yesterday’s sorrow
Bitter it seems, porcelain dreams
The full moon proceeds tomorrow
Thoughtlessness due, and so unto you
Yet so empty and hollow.

Chapter 1

Sunday’s fear, one silent tear
Shown forth through toilsome weather
Someday soon, once more too soon
They’ll shine like thoughtful treasure
Luckless and shamed, as we remain
Left by some vast measure.

Vigneti

Irrationally maintained
Exposed and unashamed
To the wingless ones that soar
Ever higher do they glide

“Such injustice for all”
They’ll cry and complain
The ill-minded offspring
The youth of today.

The Cruise

By definition
The precognitive deposition must be flawed
If it is to know
Know itself
Self awareness

Only then can it hope to strive
In a world that will do everything in it’s power
To best it’s foe
That which is you

You
Who chooses to stop and to stare
Watching others live your dreams
Whilst you choose to remain blind
Denying the birthright of exploration.

Retreating View

Plasticine portraits flicker in the wind
Stoned shallow shores barely drifting
Rise or cause to rise and hover in the air
Typically by means of a supposed divine power.

Burgundy Skies

Burgundy skies
Shimmering lights
The teardrops glimmer across the mist
To reveal the trail

The child of the mountain
Stands high upon it’s peak
Bringing wanderers to it’s door
To seek answers and more

The high priest of order
With his hand he paints
Silhouettes that shine
Across the troubled lies

The 3rd moon of Neptune
Breaks rank from the rest
To follow the trail
Of burgundy skies.

Ramblings

The ethic of ancient civilizations showed us that human beings haven’t evolved in the last 5000 years, we’ve come to know more about our surroundings and yet nothing on our own inner tranquility.
What separates us from the primitive ancestor of old is that we’ve found new and inventive ways to kill each other

Down below the ocean it is said there are those who wait
Wait and watch for the return
Return of the last bastion
Who will bring forth the new age.

113 days.

My idealistic dreams
Where the bitter sun rises through the cracks of mist
Ability to feel
Be it serene confusion
Of a lesser ones dream.

Mountain Blues

Hail rains down to greet the unwanted
Falling blissfully into the wellspring of creativity
Sharing the wealth
Sharing the might
Sharing the charlatans
Who bring forth the night
Sharing the scoundrels
Sharing the sounds
Sharing the voices
That emerge from the ground.