senshuro

I'm struggling for words that keep on slipping After thoughts that fall between my grasp The lucid froth born from Orion's whipping "Follow me young lad" I hear him rasp Weightlessness now washes over me A blanket born of sirens in the stars "The great collapse will finally set you free If you won't heed my warning turn to Mars" With bated breath I sobbed a silent song "Oh Mars what have we wrought upon ourselves? The Ancients know we're ignorant of wrong. I've read the Holy Book upon my shelf But lost the memories contained within. The knowledge I have cast aside is grace Without which what could I have known of sin?" Mars' tw

I'm giving up but never in I'll never let my madness win Please tell me once that she exists My death she sealed with one good kiss I'll never feel alone again But wishful thinking may be sin. Can someone help me understand just what is truly wrong with me. If I'm not loved by anyone I'll bed my lonely misery. *note just a rough sketch I penned out late at night

Life is not a fairy tale, although I wish it were No mountain peak to nobly scale, no princess to incur Life is not a grand escape, full of numbing pain No haze can hope to hold a shape as stable as the brain Life is not a lucid dream, beset by foolish care No silence to contrast a scream induced to make life bare Nor is life a solemn slave, a fragile little rose Trampled near the lonely grave of literary prose Life can never hope to measure all man's abstract thought To choose between pain or pleasure, pain is clearly sought Life is mortal, this I know, for all good things must end But in this moment, mortal me, will surely appreh