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I often wonder about shades of blue...our melancholy and the severity of our wounds. The skies a flatline of puffy clouds that fill under our eyes and prevent the lids from blinking. Dark night skies that expand beyond the pupils, appearing void, but flooded with thought. Clear waves of seas that roll with the wind but always fall over it's own toes. Perhaps it looks at itself far too long, or perhaps the fall is merely fate. No matter. Once gone it's demolished and the children are famished. Won't you let them gather substinence from your well? Their dirty blistered hands reach out with the pleading rough fingertips. Will you let your pale white hands delicately embrace theirs? No, for the brown dust will roll up your sleeve and envelop the skin. The stench may loom overhead, and the smell may be observed...or, maybe you will see the scent in the reflection, and what a tragedy this would be.
Pondering something that is no where close to absolute.
Racing mind, aching mind.
All it needs is a shut off.
It has been predestined that my mind cannot capacitate.
So why hurl such phantasmagoric ideas into it's understanding?
Knowledge cannot be attained... merely science.
Running out of words, why must it even be expressed?
Take comfort in nothing but sorrow and discontentment.
Alas, it is all I can count on.
Holds me in the dark.
It now appears friendly and even warms my heavy eyes.
But warnings are signaled and the tests are administered.
I cannot will myself to lift the joints.
So it will do this for me.
Yes, I have failed, and now it is sealed.
Laugh it up, but don't worry,
irony exists...
Just wait, you'll see...