in silken sinuous trail
coil ’round the zephyr,
which by queer,
roams as nothing
in ardent thought to be.
The chiming whispers
seething from the subtlety
announce the arrival
of clanging chains most antique.
And in this garden
of black metallic bliss,
denied their existence is.
In this garden
of black metallic will,
does the gaping jaw
commences the rite of blighting
with memories of instinctive dances
by poison fire and blue lotus medicine.
Every spring is a delirious dream,
a fever of singing birds beaking
at the ribcage of the shadow of death.
Every spring, the tales of old fall asleep
to the chiming of wishes
which nature is to defy
the will to apotheosis.
But every spring takes the edge
off the wine of misery.
At one point, no reflex will escape
the awareness and dance of the puppeteer –
being there but forethought
and synergy with the lower machinery.
Thus, every spring is but a glass of alchemy.
Be drunk! Be mad! – Never still.
For the road is long in the quest for eternity.
In my mind, I simply behave as I like when I please.
In your head, I am the summary and reminder of the tears you’ve shed and the anxiety you’ve given yourself into.
It’s not my intention to aggravate your pain, and I often come to the conclusion that I innately know how to reflect your inner world to force you to face the shades of your dead.
Not for a moment fool yourself with the thought that your words or deeds can affect me. Only you will suffer the whole price for your nescience and your insolence.
Yelling, taking offense, won’t make your turmoil go away. The more you resist, the more the themes that tint the walls of your consciousness will be projected onto your surroundings.
You will see me and others enact your fears and your blockages until you decide to convert them and use them to propel you toward the next stage of personal evolution.
Whatever you do, I will observe impervious.
You will display your most child-like behaviour when I break down to you your mental processes as you’ll feel denuded before the imposing truth with no way to retaliate against it.
You think your age validates your comportment.
Before my eyes, you are but a snot of life who was never taught to rise above the detrimental patterns of the sleeping rusty ones.
For once, ever since you were birthed into this world of lies, ponder upon the reasons behind your impulses, and stop hiding from your internal problems.
Do yourself a favour.
Know yourself before you engender a monstrosity you will later regret.