Sunday, April 9, 2017

Self Aware & Hating It...!

All these words,

       Are beyond the very existence of all hope for my every desire, Should I die walking to the market for apples, There be no Eden... I shall be the very most remote light of belated source of youth's contest with age's progressively unrecognisable wise salt & the mirror's peppered happiness, Each contrast is hidden in the darkness of my every waking blinds cousin to sleeps dream.

In lieu of my participation in,
Taking down G-d.
For equality's progress
For She does not abide everyone
Only those whose dulcet tones
Share His ignorance to our decomposing miserably unshaken resolve to exist momentarily as beauty