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Rated: E · Poetry · Dark · #2052003
A true freak's intermission.
Lucid Sky

A taste of things to come
Could make a third eye blind
A half bottle of whiskey turning lucid dreams into pieces of sky
Bitter sounds of rain once forgotten
Could howl in streams faster than light speed
As this odyssey drifts infinitely in oceans with waves breaking along the fault line
Vital remnants to a mind long lost begin dispersing within shambles of snow
Only to melt back in place for someone else’s eyes not yet pried



Modest Madness

Modest sparks of madness have given shape to shades of mandatory incarceration
Left confined by blissful tears coated in ridiculed ruses and outdated redemptions
Only to leave us linger with eyes pried open to dreams held together with fragile motivation
As you proudly grin at the next holocaust in front of a fabricated green screen of self-preservation
The foul heart of indulgence shall echo the cry of our persistent spiral down certain damnation
All while embracing the sanctity of our dying liberty’s liberation



Harvest

Hollow moon's harvest without hesitation, devouring every last ounce of fighting spirit
All while withered minds contemplate breaking the barrier separating our soul from the heart
That lush taste of temporary release binds our third eye shut from a paradise long since lost
Always delaying the inevitable while desperately trying to reach for these burning stars
Pinch each inch of flesh we can clutch these grubby hands upon before the stardust disperses afar
As the sweet serenity of shattered thoughts is reflected by padded walls and cold metal bars







Through Your Eyes

Now never ever live with regret or it will come back to haunt you
So don’t you ever even forget all the things that complete you
Now how could I have ever even anticipated all the hate you’ve given me?
So how could I have ever been appreciated with the life you’ve given me?
Through your eyes

So sit down and watch as all of this comes full circle
How could you have ever foreseen this invisible pain slowly corroding the miracle?
So don’t you ever blink an eye or try to follow the demons of your past
How could you ever pick up all the fallen pieces of this broken glass?
Break away from these lies

The truth is that our world has been blinded by biased predictions
So now you must ask yourself if this is reality or a fantasy coated in disillusioned fiction
Perfection is the mirage that we must pay through our souls for that little piece of gratitude
Labeled as a ‘second choice’ while being thrown down into the hell of absolute solitude
So now it’s time that we say our final goodbyes



Red Stained Horizon

This red stained horizon dances wildly to the burning tune of our rising generation
Where we shall rise again and flourish in the peace of this brand new creation
All in hopes of harboring some simple solace never known to our imagination
As we cast aside the fear laced bullets and burn down the flags of discrimination
The birds of prey will no longer sing songs of sorrow for a fallen nation
While fists of rage are held high, we drown out these verses of false salvation
© Copyright 2015 Hannibal (newgate at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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