Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Monday, May 4, 2009
theoryofanoldman
Superstitions keep my paranoia elevated,
only so much time in the glass once we're created.
it's the how come, the mask in the abyss.
I live with no regrets, no what-ifs.
thus the reason I repent from this self treason,
it's why I allow my life to cycle like the seasons.
only so much time in the glass once we're created.
it's the how come, the mask in the abyss.
I live with no regrets, no what-ifs.
thus the reason I repent from this self treason,
it's why I allow my life to cycle like the seasons.
Infinite possibilities surround me,
love has had a time within the astounding.
changes brought about a world of meaningless pleasing.
the sand's now running out, I get on my knees n'
pray that this, is all just a dream.
before long my mind will change to a fading abyss.
love has had a time within the astounding.
changes brought about a world of meaningless pleasing.
the sand's now running out, I get on my knees n'
pray that this, is all just a dream.
before long my mind will change to a fading abyss.
How could this be happening? Spare me please.
"Every man shall pay for the sins kept within."
The match-lit fire burning inside turns to conflagration.
The strange ways of a stubborn man begin to change when,
the obstacles in which could not, have now been conquered.
I look up to the sky, and know my life is sponsored.
"Every man shall pay for the sins kept within."
The match-lit fire burning inside turns to conflagration.
The strange ways of a stubborn man begin to change when,
the obstacles in which could not, have now been conquered.
I look up to the sky, and know my life is sponsored.
My destiny is still the diamond in the murky water,
unclear, un-near and so I feel I've got to;
keep the internal progression burning,
make the aggression be the passion of my learning.
If the final grain of sand falls short;
I know revolutions of the earth are ever turning.
Flows feed off energy like the power of the turbine,
the eye of spirit needs a perfect balance, unlike ions.
Keeping it's self in chaos due to the electrons,
our species has it's greed within' our self-cons.
Material possessions create a downfall; cell phones,
the wireless transmitter of the lust within' hearts.
Composed of symphonic meanings like Mozart,
disposed and displaced like the lines of a pie-chart.
The lesson's learned, and shall stay
charred and burned till my heart rips apart;
within' the fading abyss,
lies the secret of the art.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
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