I'd promised to go, but now that it's time, the scene of what I'd missed is haunting me through tattered blinds.
'Lift your eyes from above. Let your life flow out.”
Born from resistance, and plagued by irreverence, the burden of a slow memory's remnants. Awaken in moments and search for the relevance. The instance fades and leaves me no change.
It wouldn't seem like such a blow if only minds could be renewed as well as bone, if only years could all be hewn as well as stone.
A burst of color and dismay rends a draped malaise which, maligned as it may, still offers up a sanctum's peace. A cloven hoof crawls for the hobbled. The forked tongue croaks the call of the dumb.
What passes over when heads are steeped, neck deep, in the drolls cast off by the shrugging arms, the wading mass, the sludge so thick all limbs are lamed? Still we waddle all the same. Cast off all my weight.
'So cast your light away. They'll shine your light out.”
This bleeding erupted from the sores of wasted gods. The tension was broken by bloodied fists and open arms. The meaning destructed in solitude and fits of calm. Residing in daydreams, you'll only feel it once it's gone.
One day, and one chance to fail one day. You'll never screw this again, so take it all the way and dig through your grave.