My words come off the page in a way I cant explain;
almost three dimensional in their plane

From the craters they have leapt and falling just the same,
secrets now unkept, fade away like pain

But from the gallows they echo, last words to match the mellow
feelings that amass in these moments we share fellow

Longing ellipses of silence pass and I try not to sound crass
but alas,
the dismally dwindling delight does draw, a moth to the flame
an utterance of a name, fading away in to the night,
this play of words is my plight.

So pay no attention to the man behind the curtain, for tis certain
he hides there in shame, so remember not his name
does it truly matter or just the thought he brings to spark?
listen for its hark!

A request for rejection, to incite a new direction
eternally begging the question,
what will be your mark?
Just one heart? or the lot?

Recycled thoughts can make anew, but toxic is the brew
for ideas are the plague most true
which is why I write to you.
To infect and merge our mental DNA
to incite conspiracy deliriously
for we the victors
will
write our history