Wednesday, February 3, 2010

Nefarious arcadia

It was all for naught until the windstorm.
Regeneration unto the lotus.
One can’t apologize any longer.
It was divine to know pantheism.

We held onto hope. We thought it would die.
A quicksilver lesson brought unto us.
Two days marks the retribution of sin.
We fell from my dreams, neatly on the cross.

I wish I had stayed, not fled as the fox.
A splashing fire and vitality.
Three shades a crowd. Isosceles notion.
I now know why the lonely drink wine.

You brought Armageddon to none but me.
A star fall from the ore of alchemy.
For you I would live against these red bricks.
You are between alpha and omega.

This morning light shattered any distaste.
One more breath of the syndrome before me.
Five masks were there, waiting for the pious.
This is why man searches for righteousness.

Vivify The Ocelot

I feel like my new self again.
Duality knows what I mean.
My other side has a dormant day.
Were the sun moves the pyre.
I've never felt so incarnate.
The war never built its own scales.

Who is invulnerable beyond theyre creator.
Supposing they decide existence.
A desicion of security the celts never knew.
But back to the main point.
No man can escape the vice that addicts all life, Death.

It's never scary when you have riches though.
At least thats what ive been shown.

Veil

Last night,
twin of last mourning.
Oceans depicting truths.
Quiet time,
forever more.
Clear the air.
Distain and secrets,
left untouched.
A funeral for euphoria.
Returning sounds best.

Needless Without Dismay

This is a new harvest of ambition.
Lies are as corrupt as the moonlight.
But afternoon nightfall’s bring my glee.
If I give myself names of morals I will fall.

So at the end of a new fool I will learn.
I’m born without trump cards like a new thought.
Confident decisions are nothing without suspense.
I've waited for me watching the sand.

Countless and ironic I fill my glass.
Simplification revives stagnant nostalgia.
Ageless are words like the seven I love.
A cell wall is broken waiting for fixation.

Regret is floundering weakness.
Migration is awaiting brief silence.
Dystopia bound are the paths I reject.
Like Plato I grant you a token of trespass.

My roman abilities are convent.
I covet the water for being immortal.
I’m regenerating my eyesight for life.
And yet renaissance dreams plague my modern mind.

I’m glad I understand nothing.
And someday everyone else will.

Son of Solomon

It didn’t feel like august.
It hadn’t showed itself.
The sky was all but fogless.
As the books wait on there shelf.

Who knew the river flowed like wine?
Who knew that I would feel divine?

The confidence of grace of stone.
The windless waves have seldom shone.

I can’t remember seeing her.
With wood died green and black and gold.
A heavy chain, the scent of myrrh.
From martyr passion I feel cold.

Standing

This moment capture.
I can seize it.
I won’t forget this.
To myself.
No one really can.
I don’t even need to see.
I just need those vibrations.
I’ll just change for good.
I promise I will.
To you all.
Who will watch?
Those freeing.
Hopes.
Never hopeless.
Until the wrecking wind.
But I can’t worry about that.

Tannen Dell