1 November '17
The waves of light transfix us with happiness, but we should see the beauty of translucence in the sea and sand of temporal joy and humanity. Walk among the souls of the the living and the dead and you will see perseverance in the face of doubt, and know the ecstasy of being.
Sifting through the miniscus, ranting parables, senseless chidings to opt out of the draconian dealings in mythological concepts of the counter productive cognizance of rational despair, I seize the empty peace that plagues the wandering gypsies of this transparently intangible state of being, perplexing in the shadow of lifes redundancy, relentlessly pulling myself to realization. Ive emptied the bucket a thousand times, to find peace of mind in the swish of my hand, never to save the starfish in a bowl, just to encounter the dream of the sanddigger.
The ramifications of an abolished sense ot torture in testimonial.
Deceptive recognizance, or dazed reflection of particulars in the scope of design inflation of my terrestrial domain, is my manipulation of what I believe to be, but never what I discover in respect to the potential outcome of my realized intentions. Fight for truth, justice and the rights of men to shape destiny? No, I cannot fool the joker with my comical inferences of nobel gestures. Im seen right through before the first syllable of my tarnished rhetoric is flailing into the empty mist of assured displace energy.
Fortuitous being, soul of tempestuous resolve, never caught in slumbers halo, always guided by the shiver of fear. Has he the estuary of insight that lesser men hail for in the caverns of their all too sure moments of victory? The truth is guilded in the blood of century’s of disguised fractures of diligence, where a second glance might have curtailed a sea of terror. It is doubt, that mesmerising, inimical thought that sways the judgement to consideration of affect. An enemy of injustice, not a weakness, but a strength, an emergence of empathy.
Is it enough to be stranded on this rock of angel dust and fairy shadows, reclined in solar bliss, trapped yet free, chained to an eerie mechanism of fate? Bewildered? I was, untill the fall, the fall of ruin, the dust of decadence. Now, I know, and a new philosophy outwieghs my corruption of insight. I am amused. A pleasant suprise to my belonging in the mayhem. I escape no treasure, no ambiance of texture enthralls me, I capture water in deserted eyelids. I peruse the pitch of snares that would tear my enigma shroud, expose my angst at dawns reclamation of the darkness that I so love. Amused at my insolent genius, that knows of all, to the limits of sarcasm, the laughter of elves in orbit. Throw the lantern down the well, to see the escape is exotic, a wisp of fresca fortells the awakening to delimas demise.