hear me raw
like concrete and death.
gorgeous, this the ugly sky.
they know who i am;
a subject of indefinite light
observe from whence our vision hails;
that surreal mist vanquished at sunrise,
flooding one elaborately manipulated life.
welded time may again show me for me
and in cool shadows demand a reply
to some thousand questions lost in time.
my song is dead.
crushed, like my
psychedelic moiré.
imagine absurd truths,
the fluff of empty lies.
whisper through the rain,
running about madly.
almost free she screams,
but still hopelessly lost in the dark.
surrounded so fully,
miasmic reality calls.
 
Copyright © fadesintonothing, All Rights Reserved