ApocalypseHead down, time is running out let those glances slip to the sideApocalypse
it's coming, you can't tell when but it's coming soon, and everything will change
You can feel it coming too. Feel how your pulse is quivering it's barely restrained and you are over aware
you can't run now, it was too late from the beginning just sit, and hope, and pray, and contemplate just what end you come to. have you lived admirably?
or do you deserve your misery?
Everyone's dying slowly, but some will go faster and you can feel it. that slow s
Another Snowy Nightthese dead eyes have gone too far half lidded, graying with time too soon they can't help but see what lies in store a night mare of hope a terror of prosperity.Another Snowy Night
it's enough to drive pi rational
a moment in time captured out a window by a wandering glance, a look askew seeing only the cold and icy night the danger of moving from this spot you can't stay here, you're going mad.
snowplows coming like bad luck, in groups of three but they can't get it all. the road is still gone here and there obliterated by the white drifting masses of featureless
Ramblingsin the peace of the night my thoughts are freed. Freed To expand. To run wild. To escape. To reproduce. Thoughts lead to thoughts lead to thoughts. Expanding and spiderwebbing across my mind, And my conscious and my conscience.Ramblings
An expansion as violent as a nuclear explosion, Pushing away everything that tries to stand against. And what am I? I am but a miniscule highly ordered arrangement of atoms, In the wake of this violent outrising. Powerless to stand against And with nothing to find myself seeking protection in.
And I? I feel overwhelm
Soft and SweetTell me something soft and sweet, Words to knock me off my feet. In this dark coccoon of blankets and fluff, Tell me life doesn't have to be rough.Soft and Sweet
Pray me something soft and sweet, Words to put my soul to sleep. To float away in perfect bliss, And thinking nothing can be amiss.
Sing me something soft and sweet, To set my troubled mind at ease. While thoughts on wicked wings so fleet, Rush here and there just as they please.
--
He's dead, Jim.
--
"All our yesterdays have lighted fools the way to dusty death."
-William Shakespeare, MacBeth
Previous PageNext Page