Discovery by markostimpy
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Description
Lights dim, stationary
Flickering to the beat of the horizon
Uncompromised in its solitude
Thoughts wander through an aching mind
Who are you ? What are you ?
Known and unknown in an instant
Rough ideas, hazy in their passing
Invasion of a secret world
Unknown until now
With the sanctity of the present destroyed
And reality all but truly known
It's time
To move on to another forgotten place
Comments (1)
tallpindo
Hatred is like the drumhead of a Tom-Tom. Once one is walking on it one can hear the beats of the feet and those of others. Freeze! Jump off. Any such thoughts are fatal one must continue to live and breath and interact. Soon the beat calls up a dance. The hiving has begun. One must bob and weave and duck the blows and collisions, all the while keeping up the beat. Love is on the other side the dualist hopes and crawls to the edge to peep over and look at the underside. If I could only hang on like an aphid with my wonderful honey filled fat of revenge I could live on the underbelly. To avoid being missed I could leave a metronome beating on the top but the mainspring is broken and they have found me and are feeding me again. My transparent greeness is showing, I am a babe in nutland.