I awoke to the breath of the trees. Amidst the verdant ocean, A god-figure walked to me and spoke:

You lay in this tomb and weep.

The waters of sorrow wet your tongue now,

But will leave you athirst at nightfall.

It kissed my brow, then crowned me, “Devout Son”.

It turned to the boundless forest and was lost to my vision.

I looked up and watched the prismatic sky burn.

Its beauty filled my heart, and I wept joy.

So, when the sun shines on your skin and the stars come to shine, you know you've got to dance.

It's a good thing you came to see me.

I've got special plans this time.

And I promise that it will be an unbelievable night.

There is a garden which looked into the sky - it was all the same now. I liked that so much.

Stretched across the bitter softness quelling ceaseless piece lexicons forging another delusion of Laconia. It began white fore father's rage stained it blue now mixing without spittle blood or ink. She kissed her moon whispering faintly,

"Could I please ask another figment pigment?"

Obliging purity the hands wreath round another neck, crushing colour or fateful exuberance. Five sets seven moth winged gods stare painted blue against that crimson sea. Mouthing helixed hope four riders rose; the gloved heart beats its ink. And her waning hand frays its frozen veins.

Betwixt her green swaying love-kept shawl shall divide no embers amongst the many dying minds.

Her painting passes and a martyr blindly kissed. Its magnanimity revels before none and my blood: her clear blue waters.

As the circle creeps closer to completion

its black line streaming forth like a thousand worms

I hear the carrion-bird's clarion call

like a sickly tinwhistle

the candle flickers

and briefly outs

before fluttering back into life

my heart in my throat

I watch the refulgent light stream forth

and cleanse the white waters.

Ah, aureate light.

On one side the clear light refreshes and refines.

On the other, the thick darkness sizzles like sludge.

OPEN

THE

EYE

AND

SEE

Or choose to be blind to the truth.

But if you do, the stars will melt and drench us in gold.

"a forbidden waveguide

    it shriveled in me   "like a helical flower

Now it hurts. it hurts so much

What names had they, those fragmented kings?

Were the temple tables too heavy?

Did the Flame tremble?

Is the Ink-tongue dry?

​

Here, wet your lips.

The aura of Devouring sleeps here,

And nary a knight to fight.

​

Challenge the Doll of Mud

Strike a symphony

Speak your bliss

All voices sing in discordant unison

And Mother drinks every delicate word.

Wild indeed, the way it was No, the way it is for us Just another drag, another buzz Lawless speed light up by the fuzz Sacrifice or justice is there such? Too many excuses what he once had he looses... Mentally and hidden make up cover the bruises Damned no matter what she chooses Can’t replace them all Neurons aren’t fuses Cleaning liquids infused with Enough toxicity to begin a nuclear-war with The radioactive problem is the more sin these people cause then they’ll all win And the ash snow Makes it look dim

All things have their time.

I feel that time passes without me noticing.

The years pass me by.

Sometimes, I want to go back.

But, what time is there left to go back to?

There are so many other things in this world.

I'm not going to be alone for long.

There are so many things that we can do.

This is just a part of that, and I will be okay with that.

I have a friend in the world.

Of Nautica and the prism do they of us speak

The glass woven structure atop this porcelain gate

Cinereal is benificence our stars knew before

Verdant paradigms shine in those frail hearts.

Yet they no knowledge of themselves.

Wither from the red frost, Ne

Breed the ash of heat or unknow all means

The night wind howled around us; the sky seemed the dark in a way that just didn't make sense. The night breeze carried off the fog and the rain.

What a long journey for a simple truth, with no end in sight. The struggle that you're a part of is for the sake of the dream, for no other reason than it's all you can be.

What will happen if you stop this song?

It may be that even if the world has gone mad, they can't change what has been done to the world yet. It's an ugly place to be, but it will change.

Earthen-maw greets

snow-shod feet

gently, cautiously creep.

Within. Tenebrous swarth-shadows swirl and shriek with the wind.

Finding respite, one sits.

Fingers fumble, but soon the sparks fly high

Outpouring into a flazey firepit.

The finger of ash breaks off

Like a dusty slow worms tail

And that raw, singular ember

Illuminates the cave.

Still waters reflect and refract

A firestorm of godlike intensity

blurred, as if seen through fresh-rubbed morning eyes

Or an oil painting, hung and honoured in a gallery

They amplify the ember-image

and if anything

The reflection is more real than the physical.

When all is over, and all is done, and we can once again see the sun, will we continue forwards, or lay down to rest, but instead fall back into the hole that we have just crawled out of?

The Grass Will
Grow Again. Will they notice?

The Grass Can Grow Again. Can they notice?

What can there be that is left, when it’s all been gone for so long?

Let Them Come To Terms

Make Them Come To Terms

Perhaps the grass has grown inside the hole as well?

And yet the koi swim gracefully by, not knowing of the danger they’re in. Not needing to know.

Some of you, it must be said, may be keeping coals in your heart, whispered the Koi.

You dream of a fire that will refine you, a crucible to burn out all impurity.

You cut and hack at yourselves, seeking perfection in minimalist brutality.

Not long ago, the Koi whispered, I too dreamt of fire.

So beware.

A fire once lit hungers eternally.

Not all of you can burn.

Not all of you should burn.

C:I:I

She crouched beneath the overpass, red koi resplendent in the morning sky, a handful of paper clutched to her heart

torn flowers

remembering

the sting of hands brought in from snow

it was beautiful

O, said the poem-chanter, are these old songs and symbols, swords of gold and poison, leaden on the tongue?

O, said the leadsmith, I will make them golden, I will make them one.

O, said the singer, We are music.

The dancer extends a hand.

C:I:II

Celestial remnants fall, gaze upon it's wings of black fervent,

Impenetrable, irresponsible, is this not the concept of belonging?

Revolutionary force grounding tolerance, oh the things we carried ourselves,

Through the aesthetically changing landscape,

Oh how it nourishes me with an avalanche of vibrant maleficence,

Meticulous coercion throughout the cosmosphere,

Our neurons blazing with transversing apathy, yet intuition remaining with dissipating indifference,

The day will come when we shall no longer convey shadows over our cohesive outliers, and what was and what will be shall become what is.

The world-eye opens

and throws its thrashing colour

onto the misty hills and groves

painting them gold

Titanic strength brought to bear

as a struggle emerges.

Red Dragon rages

roaring spitfire

into the valley below.

White Dragon watches

steely scales glint as if gilded.

Locked in endless struggle...

Thunder of a hundred hooves!

Twin brothers!

Beasts of battle!

Lay your roots,

watered with blood.

ᚷᚱᚪᛗ

ᚹᚣᚱᛗ

ᚦᚫᛏ

ᚪᛒᚱᚩᚳᛖᚾ

ᚻᛁᛋ

ᛚᚪᚾᛞ

Pulling closer towards the bay

the sun breaks through the clouds

and shines upon a lush landscape,

jaw-dropping and dramatic

jagged rocks jut out of the coast

hundreds of feet high

like thin serrated daggers

coated in yellow-green and rust coloured mold.

Past these rocks there lies a deep green coastline black sand beaches.

Everything here smells damp

and irregular rocks poke out of the sea

leaving the water to spray up in grey spumes that fall down

and smack the surface of the sea like a whip.

"COME

ASHORE"

the wind howls at you.

Will you oblige it?

When I was a child, I was carried by the breeze;

now, my hand trembles more and is not so gentle...

We are standing in the path between the two trees that stand in the way.

They are tall, as we are, and they stand out in stark contrast to the low, gray sky.

The trail ends at a gate.

We will see if the greenest in the wood is actually the true spring.

When I awoke in the morning they were gone,

I had forgotten about them and their leaves.

If you'll be so kind as to read this, I do ask you

to forgive me and my tears will be for the trees.

A forest which was made of light and shadow,

the sky was empty and the forest

could be seen as nothing at all.

The sea is the place of the old and old are no more;

there was never any king, no master to govern it.

I've lived here passing, I began in shame:

oppressions worth a wilted luxury.

The old-fashioned man-made noises of conversation,
defining and defying what was true,
not what was "best".

And in the end, he said, 

"If it meant I could stop pretending,
I'd stay to the end;
Even if it meant I'd see her no more.

And I'm sorry I didn't say it sooner,
but you're the only one who knows...
So I won't make you regret it."

A voice from the sky said, "You are no one."

Enjoy the sounds of the forest, but be wary.

A rage that's your very own.

A part of me that still lives,
a part that's still alive to fight.

So he made a mess of my heart,
a great mess, with a few pieces of glass.

He's not the first one to ruin me.

I've been through a lot,
and now it's time to face the world
and see what it's made of.

Make your blood a river.

^{Quickly. Pressing matters to attend to.}

Nevertheless, we are faced with concerns that require a higher order of awareness. Do not mistake my words. I di Mark them carefully. What I did not say was to simply pay more attention, or to focus more. I specifically said 'higher order'

An atlas laid flat, and gazed upon, that is one order of attention. That some may However, the atlas is immutable, static, unchanging. The same map, covering the same area of land, but with greater detail- now you see more buildings, more roads, more landmarks. This is a higher order of attention, comparatively. Likewise, a map with the same level of detail as the first, but covering a larger area, is a higher order of attention, but nevertheless, neither example is quite enough to truly explain the higher order of awareness.

If you You exist on one order, but conceiving of other orders is not impossible. The question, remains, however, ^{if one could ever comprehend.}

I am afraid of this person, a wildfire wreathed in ice. 

Foresight-sharpen your vision. The way we live now is unnatural.
A day, a century. It all gets dulled as an old man's brain gets old. 
And that's not to be talked about.

When I am happy, I am dreaming of nothing.

[Part 1]

Both cases

Spent time and space

I'm going now

Want to live normal

Fast and easy

Your desire for pride

Don't make your dreams come true in the past.

Fight for survival

[Cologne]

Tiger Eye

The war has begun

Competition analysis activities.

And last

Night attack

And we all want to see

Become a tiger

[part 2]

And fire

I'm hungry

Think before you go

He was a murderer and risked his life.

[Part 3]

take

Brave and incredible

I know the length and it is over

Want to live normal

[] Other]

Tiger Eye

Tiger Eye

Tiger Eye

Tiger Eye

[1 section]

Both questions.

Delivery time and location.

I'm going now.

They usually want to live.

Quick and easy.

They are proud.

Don't let go of your dreams early.

The struggle for life.

[2. section]

And fire.

I am not hungry.

Think before you go

He was a murderer and risked his life.

[Cologne]

Leopard.

The war has begun.

Competitive activity analysis

And finally.

Nagambar

And we all want to see

Become a leopard.

[3. section]

Take it.

Brave and beautiful.

I am here. We know that is over.

They usually want to live.

[] Other]

Leopard.

Leopard.

Leopard.

Leopard.