Vicarious and add-in

On a forsaken night I was hindered,
by a breaking of light through malicious clouds.
Upon a cold night fell a sour breeze,
Dense stench of destiny found.
Here in a graveyard scene beyond a plallid village,
I could taste audacious fate as it stood before me.
Here hostility isolated me,
As from afar aroused a sound.

Eerie,
It crept over the tranquil waters.
Heavy,
It sunk to the depths of me.
Only to evade me so bitterly from me...
Like a silver drop it held steadily,
Hovering amongst the waves of the sky.
In a quiver I stood solemnly,
Bathing in the bliss of the drunken twilight.
Here I peered unwavering,
Invisibly touched by the naked eye.

Neck raised to the above,
Lost insight escapes the wild's call.
A venomous warning that beckoned me...
Peculiar sorrow in the canine's scream...
As if together we were listening,
Dragging me to a vermillion stream.
As if our virtues sang together,
Silently in prayer.
Enveloped in each other's united despair...
Sychronizing the destiny of one another,
Both of us broken beyond repair.

My soul became a stringed lyre,
Slowly it tuned itself to sing along...
Aware of its vicious potential,
Witness of its ability to create.
Yet an iron thud in my chest,
Promises me it will sing darkly,
A soft tune of iridescent happiness...
The lullaby of me.

Captivating trance refuses to release me,
Denying such stubborn pride.
Motionless by all degree,
Beholds me in a steel trap.
...and 'tis here I hide...
Its clawed grasp forces mischievious laughter,
Quivering beneath the silver light's slaughter,
Which filled the spot-lit sky.
Time briefly halted,
Brought the gruesome silence of a comely night.
All cemented in peace...
Conspicious impatience of life.

A breath and I escaped,
Only to find myself back in place.
There remained pieces of a shadow,
Shattered remnant victims....
Such a stolen beauty of reckoning.
Held dogmatically in vesper...
From a smiling demon evolved a new beginning.
...The vicarious of me...



alright so that was vicarious and since my profolio limit is 10 i'm adding new writings on to each current writing...  Wrote this untitled piece a while ago

----I don't want to think about they day... a time... a place i might come to find and a state i wish not to reach. Because i have been thinking of the days to come and the sickness overwhelming me as time pushes on. There is nothing i hide from this... nothing is unknown of me. I cannot tell you how i feel.. i cannot describe to you how i think, nor what it is i am thinking of directly. There is just this sense, one must possess... a sense which penetrates all profuse boundaries and which questions all which exists. For it can be figured the mind of one of solipsism must lead an empty life. While the existentialist is about denying themselves of what is deemed modern human behavior... searching to find our own meanings or just accepting that we have none? As the objectivist is about choosing life as their own, possessing a security in the knowledge that all is there's to their wishing... Either one denies the idea of tomorrow, embraces it with a careless hope, or chooses to have it... tomorrow is approaching. Time as we know it, is a human invention. A creation we found greedy in it's own nature. Some may otherwise deem time to be as fate- our own to do with it as we please. The fact is that our 'fate' can only be controlled indirectly by ourselves.. How we spend out time in this life is determined by the choices we make- namely the ones we make without considering the future effect of. So time may be ours at hand, but it is our calling to seize such a day, in a manner pleasing solely to one self. As a solipsist might state, however, there is no choice.. no existance... no tomorrow no time no future.. denoting the existence of everything was not listed as a commonly positive effect on the building of character. Time is ours at hand... Despite such a fact- it is you who holds all my time.
The true point of devotion, in it's moral commitement, is a divine intervention between cognitive thinking and the self's interaction amongst a given society. To adapt oneself is to commit oneself to a new enviornment... Even though such a given may not please the individual- it is their devotion in personal recognition of a reasoning belonging to their own that they find themselves at a will of change.
One furthermore decides to adapt morally- to accept, in the most dense of commitments- morals belonging to another... And by adapt i do not mean accept. No, one must modify the moral structure in order to become suited unto it. As if they take someone else's morals as their own, they truly have no morals themselves.. And it is morals that make us beings. Morals- the epic quality which puts us within terms of behaving 'human.' If you give yourself into a cause- a belief... be it in love, religion, or science- you will away your morals and destroy your inner being. And there are your dreams, as you truly are. Therefore the most uttermost devotion in life, be is sounding self-ish, is to one self. As stated, to commit oneself to something ought to be to recognize and will the change of a devotion. Bend the morals, recognize doubts as they are and do not, in any means, merely accept... Such religious peoples may highly disgard such statements, as religion would not be if people would truly commit themselves to a belief by willing a change to it's structure- as religion is made through the acceptance of a common belief that wills no room for true devotion. Here we hold captive a truth, and we find flaws in ourselves.. and those who have yet to live with fear that they dare no look inward for they do not wish to acknowledge the different aspects of themselves.