Poetry of the mind
What do I stand for?
With words I speak,
I create simple harmonies and melodies,
Orchestrated fates,
I intertwine words to mold fabricated destinies.
It infiltrates the aura of the mind,
We speak,
With words loud enough to hear,
But not clear enough to see,
I speak,
Through ink that flows,
I undermine the normality,
To ignore the truth,
Of robotic mediocrity,
I stand,
To destroy the substance of the mind,
Letters clothed in elegant,
Materialistic,
Sadistic design.
Consume the lies told by men dressed in hypocrisy,
Wearing nothing but a dollar sign.
I create,
A web of my own disasters,
Language spun into novels,
Of creatures and monsters,
Hidden in the skin,
Of important Imposters.
I write for the weak,
For those captured by darkness,
Unable to speak.
I write,
To save the idealistic,
Altruistic,
Felonious objective.
We are trapped in spirals of our own creation,
Left with nothing but words
And a villainous intention.