
My thought process on paper. Even I, the writer, have dificulty understanding it.
Rated: Fiction K - English - Words: 307 - Reviews: 2 - Published: 03-30-06 - id: 2143227
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For reasons unknown, this cosmic accident we call life, spawned into existence
Camouflaging the electric eclipse of pleasure and joy
Rigid whispers pierce a bizarre incision, like a calculated silhouette, straight through the heart
A random variable emotion, called love, overshadows conscious thought
In a desperate attempt to take evasive protocol, safety precautions fuel progressive anger
A retarded genius contemplates the inner workings of perpetual motion, easily overlooking an outdated concept
Raiding heroine heuristics into whimsical nonsense
Baboons blowing blue bubbles are caught in the act of a daily routine
Nothing but an empty wasteland, filled with intrigue, that withholds secrets
The truth will knock you off your rocker
Gyroscopes tumble crazily, but crazy is all that remains
Friendly fire chinks the armor of an inward prognostic
Original thought is on the brink of extinction, for migratory doves come in limited edition.
You've gambled and lost the only fragments your shredded life had left you with
As you continue to blindly follow the deaf powers that be
Eccentric orbits built around a telescope, just to get a glimpse of our own backyard.
The picture perfect proclamation of self-inflicted hate.
Common logistics washed away in the internal bleeding of our nation, through mass silencing.
Radiation rots away our hearts, while only a strumming chord plucks away our heartstrings
Moral fiber caught between grinding teeth.
Chivalry is lost in the timeless sands.
Cover your ears to drone out the silence.
Our youth is wild and reckless with regard to finite authority.
We scream out refusing to fade silently into the darkness.
The grim reaper blows out the candle of a life that kept your dream ablaze.
Incognito figurines prance around in the rain, rejoicing at your loss.
We all lose a game we never knew we played.
Chaos and uncertainty dominate our souls.
The final battle? Inevitability
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