For Lack Of a Better Idea*
Wednesday, March 21, 2007
Psychotic Rambling
the black moon has covered the face of the sky.
the lines of tide have broken.
earth has been reborn unto a world of perverse dementia.
we are alone unto another,
alone; within the crowd.
we shall all be
dead within a beating heart
there is no future for the lost children.
the line of tides has broken.
the cars pass by,
no worries.
faceless monsters plague us in our sleep.
we shall rise again
and play with the taken.
the sun is on fire
moon is no longer the romantic.
garish the life of the dead is,
and it is all we have now.
to it we must bow, repenting.
we have become.
the measureless room.
our confusion reigns.
our souls have disclosed the secrets
of life, of death
of a past when there was no future.
we are alone.
caught in the trap we have all woven with out hatred.
we are the dead
seeking life,
again.
cannot the calm rage
sought in this land be freed?
the gloom hisses
beast, monster; Human.
we cannot
see.
the portal has been opened
we don't digress the land and time.
we die.
soon, the end will be seen.
we take off the glasses.
no longer rose colored,
is it?
we cannot help
each other.
dark death brightly lit
by the candle on the alter.
if the path is lost,
we will be found
lighting our way
with the blood of the fallen.
we cannot proceed
as we are.
the wrong answer to the right question
was two.
No Longer Alone.the lines of tide have broken.
earth has been reborn unto a world of perverse dementia.
we are alone unto another,
alone; within the crowd.
we shall all be
dead within a beating heart
there is no future for the lost children.
the line of tides has broken.
the cars pass by,
no worries.
faceless monsters plague us in our sleep.
we shall rise again
and play with the taken.
the sun is on fire
moon is no longer the romantic.
garish the life of the dead is,
and it is all we have now.
to it we must bow, repenting.
we have become.
the measureless room.
our confusion reigns.
our souls have disclosed the secrets
of life, of death
of a past when there was no future.
we are alone.
caught in the trap we have all woven with out hatred.
we are the dead
seeking life,
again.
cannot the calm rage
sought in this land be freed?
the gloom hisses
beast, monster; Human.
we cannot
see.
the portal has been opened
we don't digress the land and time.
we die.
soon, the end will be seen.
we take off the glasses.
no longer rose colored,
is it?
we cannot help
each other.
dark death brightly lit
by the candle on the alter.
if the path is lost,
we will be found
lighting our way
with the blood of the fallen.
we cannot proceed
as we are.
the wrong answer to the right question
was two.
Copyright @ 2007 by Bluepaintred
*This is just a copy and paste from my other blawg. Sry, but Im zonkered. G'night.
Labels: I'm Important Too, Poems
posted by Bluepaintred @ 11:43:00 PM
8 Comments:
Deep bluepaintred.
Pass my some Prozac.
You're good, you know.
And I owe you one lasagna recipe.
very good Blue! deep, but good!
It's like Def Poetry Jam up in here...
Well done!
Mr.Fab do you ramble ever?
wear clean underoos!
Sans Pantaloons I wrote it in grade ten. I was supposed to bedoing some sort of typing thingy to teach me how to type witout looking at the keyboard.
One tall momma booya! me luff you long time. Send Pasta rules!
Catch Did you know donuts can get slimy? Im still a bit shocked by this.
finn def peotry jam. huh? that one flew over mah head. please repeat, but in smaller words so my breain can process!
Pee Ess. when I wrote this i was very very very very happy with life. I was innnn luuuurrrve for the very first time. heh. this is my version of a love poem
im kinda odd. sry
That is so dark and unforgiving...
I LOVE IT!!
CK Why thank you . i was very ...teen.. when I wrote it
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