The missing fangs
This is a little piece I wrote, as I danced on a field of whimsy.
I had the answer in my hand and I lost it.
A forgotten face whispers a secret to me.
Like smoke blown into the wind.
It’s all a trick, there is no past.
Please don’t leave me, alone, all alone.
Embraced by the darkness, dimming under such weight.
Everybody is a God, brighter than a star, faster than light.
Sound means something else is there, a fundamental archetype of duality.
One dark future broken by the love of the innocent.
I don’t know where to look because I don’t want to find the truth.
My mind has gone, now to another place.
The broken heart cannot heal, the broken one can drink only tears.
Close your eyes and sleep forever in a lucid dream.
Nothing but dust and scorched earth. Floating through burning haloes.
I see you there, reading this and pitying, but it’s the world that has been sold.
And so The End is Nigh, time eclipsed and encaged like a vision of joy.
The shining ones look away from their creation with not apathy, not disgust, but a wisdom they have learned in defeat.
I found it all out, but where is there to go when the journey is over?