Broken Glass Stands Upon Mirrors Edges, it Seems; Translucence From Nuances Come All at Once (#No Filter)
Beyond the pier of sincere,
which left no bright i.d.eas,
loveless, forgotten, shores left upon beading visors,
theses lashes beat for clarity after blurring tears, which peer through
reflex, and bend the the light that breaks within them,
so smooth as they grove upon groves,
knowing is a forgotten ailment signaling those who proceed me,
lost in my history hysterically,
How’d you feel me from Interstelerellaia?
it’s getting boring being stuck under understanding
thumbs and company twidle, kindle remembrance
which left stigmas of your identity
fabricating a new entity
I look for temperance to deal with the obscenity,
upon the air waves carrying a stale haze,-
lame excuses,-
passive passion,-
satellite revolt as the comfort of confirmation towards conformation,
plans their working hand,
I feel the monotony discontinue,
at times...
cursed tongues at the rimmed kiss
mark words before they speak,
only to deceive,
broken records,
half fool coups,
clowns fill
filing sounds-
from their heavy
gnashing
faint ends seeping poison rains
From fang to vein,
vanity remains
Levels of ancient waves fade up and bellow in days
escape into me,
I see now anomalies
Not enemies,
What would they be for?...
Gene manipulating foes?
A-tempting matrix of whos and whys
With wide spectrums, the colors of their behavior
Snap my mind in primal calamity
my patience teems within but for how long can I persist-
every synonymous look of scorn,
sworn into me, but they’re never right and almost wrong
swarms of hoarding words warm my pointy blade with their maddening gaseous remarks,
Your anatomy, a tragedy, atomically causes calamity,
my minds is your calm,
and you seem to grip it with hidden palms,
lift songs like timed bombs in suspension
the fall break mines,
spectators view what’s to find
the hue man race has become an echo of the past,
a melodic nothing screams from another in passing aways, all dimensions
always the difference between this music and the outside whirl wind song,
which takes you along in swinging flings of threading disease-
from a exhausting breeze- those who wish to unfree the living,
to form a sights that fit their con-ed fortified delight
I don’t care for their constant efforts to read my body and mind at alarm,
they’re focusing all their attention at another's heart beat as their instantaneous, heinous repent form resentment of the sounds they toil as they come into spoiled scene,
the sentimental beings are so close to the foot of my sole- it hurts to see them be-
having their aim always at me,
creepy crawling-
it's a craze,
a fad to wash away
I say,
but they repeat,
they are looking for an excuse for their every enchanting chattering verbal abuse,
misuse of conduction,
they cut their mouths of me,
empty say-so haunt
the scientist taunts,
their hyposynthesises are incredulous/ sly and ever-changing,
but they keep it up vehemently,
I try to be myself but yet another lash from some voyagers pillaging lance in the distance,
they are as evil as they come
Odes belonging to all at all time,
they laugh from far away from nervous needs,
they next in bliss full foolish business,
allies suck each other's smarts,
the arbitrary lies upon their tails,
dripping spines-
why to the lives of the bi-curious assumptions
their mouths chatter with their very own suspicion
intels of suspects they blame for their own disdain,
their eye's seek and listen without hesitance,
the internal assassins are quick and full of speculation,
they fall flat and dull to every spectacle,
staying transfixed in a union-
of those who fear,
so their pretense in well acquainted with,
they pretend until the break it,
perhaps their gaze is upon you
I tell you- words prescribe caution
continue seeking originality’s singularity,
golden soul,
diamonds rough sharp unity
in all you will be
I hold no fears because soon they will disappear and I will still be,
my spirit can't not fade because I have made my mark of wish filled kindness to them-
yet I still pull their throwing knive’ lines from my spine,
and miss every time-
extending my hand always
and yet they pause
to try and speak but the thing about taking turns is their behind me,
their attempt to reach parallelization-
but we could never be the same,
we've never shared the same road,
mine consist of sticks stones and verbios host with nothing beautiful to say,
only remark with odes that go undeserved,
they serve as advocates of misunderstanding,
they're are not beneath or above me but unsided,
lies from outside my walls attempt to breach
and they aren't even close to penetration my heart
reinforces- them out with silent violence that trumps theirs every time,
because they move without caution and I follow my beating vessel,
they are the vessels of their own devils inside unleashing havoc distractions,
causality brought into reality through evidential denial of their own past,
instead they blame the closest heart in frame,
they attempt to disrupt a gain,
they are the antagonist of my “play”,
they are the reason for the insane to wish away,
for those who move with hostility and search for tranquil,
vanquishing of the pain through stigmatizing others within their persistent sharpening eyes,
attempt to follow my mind instead of fabricate one,
what's my latest fashion haunted missionaries?
keep reading my cover expecting a different title,
but biblically I was here and heard infinity.
you seek in me,
I try to lead by example but arbiterroritorial administers minister dark rains every instant minute by minute they attempt to phase me,
severing themselves through me,
like co-war-dice-rollers would,
would fires burn- is deep in my heart,
jump in but don't be surprised when your the shaded by the flames,
shadow of my reign, a hind-sighted blight of mine
you said no to my wish filled pieces of a whole,
broken long ago,
I try to find them,
the broken glass upon mirror shattering edges of countless emerging hostiles,
steal gods away with their flat surfaces,
for they face a deity within my vessel’s crafty visage,
and I have created him from scratches at my walls and at my door,
I have created...
and I’ve excited my flame, through seeking solace from a peaceful mind,
which provide helping hands and summons love from silence,
the beauty of such- an artistic tool to toil tranquility,
not with enormous memories that speak false evidence because late has passed and they still are passively vile in their babel,
I ramble on to break their bond to me,
they have nothing for me that caused me to want love,
instead they fill my heart with aesthetic counters that dismount through the usage of shouting laughs lasting and huddled inside and out of a window like canvas of black and white like piano keys in play, with new reason to reissue their debut,
my hand still remains to be reached but who can be trusted when bewitchment comes from disturbing genies like gypsies,
who wishes are gifts that come with cost,
leave my sight avenues for nights upon nights as long as you remain void in need of payment for displacement upon my sloping hearing
looking for another which opposes it with grace