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a critique aimed at myself |
off the mark Within the grand scheme of all things, I think… I lay focus on subjects, topics I consider succinct examinations of details within a spacial awareness. to dream...to dream without such flooding fears, to touch those stars afar not be hampered or laden by such thoughts so near I long to soar, to reach out for freedom loosen all imagined chains of oppression. is not this world but a crowded, open stage…? and, are we not all just fleeting actors…? vying for a central pose within the push and shove of celebrity exiting left when speech and time would come to its seminal end I would seemingly play the role of jester, for you don the clown’s visage for laughter, here after lay hidden all my tears of self-betrayal those illusions close to those conjurers’ tricks such sleight of hand, that sudden hidden coin of surprise unyielding weapons of neutrality, that spy their chance and confuse the mind once again soundly duped, and beaten fallen for that fool’s philosophy outmoded and dated in its grandeur and mediocrity …an art of artistic artistry drawn in symmetry, for the mirror tells no lies It cuts and sheds life’s rich blood in search of pure honesty craving perfection, without marks or defections though I wane...for it is failure! fill my walls with images of divine divinity, of wanton expectancy, so I can pine for their beauty and greatness, of nothing less nothingness, an emptiness of soul and inner being laid to waste and dormant, yearning for a devout existence surely this equilibrium is Mother Nature in singular balance a cold elevation from which to stand and rise upon to make and take just moral aim from and yet our existence is a feigned equality, flawed and hollowed a sufferance of man and kind, bound and blinded lead away from suffering and plight by glittering prizes sense found senseless, ‘til all is hopeless how grand it must be to feel the aroma of anointment that fettering waste of appointment |