Here I lie, bound within the darkness of a swiftly ending night, a lightening world unveiled with the sun as my guide, weaving enlightened rays about these tired eyes.
And there he stands, adorned in the coming day, slight frame bent amongst torn battlefields and shattered armaments. The unfolding and writings recalling the most ancient of days etched within the iris of his eyes.
He’s comprised of the prettiest lips and oh, the shapeliest of thighs, forged, I’m sure, in the bursting depths of exploding starlight,
And each moment I set my eyes upon his shifting light, my spirit aligns,
each part takes to the sky, and I know,
That here I lie, forever held within the bindings of a fading world with that wizard as my guide, weaving enchanted dreams about these waking eyes.
Tuesday, September 21, 2010
Antiqua
Now antiquated times of forsaken gods fade within the blink of discovery. A distant ideology exchanged for a quickness in number and machine. Are these findings within perceiver or reality? We are but drifting contingencies floating about the shattered surface of continued uncertainty. For is there more or less of what seems? (That driving question always calling me). Or are we lost within the threads of our own construct, deceit?
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