| welcome to my personal apocalypse welcome to my personal apocalypse welcome to the end of the simple dirge theres too much to hold onto in this dark night welcome to something new welcome to the horrifying prospect of coexistence with the spirits of the afterworld left to fend for themselves against the will of god as the story spoken by the tapestry unfurls and swings its mighty wings westward and heaves a mighty sigh and beats its mighty heart one final time without so much as a glance from passersby the current alternates its symphony of waves the day falls fast, its raining im driving between the end of life and death but at least it keeps things entertaining this gentle grace with which I fall belies the dread in every step I cant pretend I dont notice the leaves a-turnin they fall as though possessed theres a symphony or emotion cascading down it leaves me lying in state wondering where my oracle is and wherefore have I been given such a capacity for elation when none is forthcoming who could have ever seen the falling horizon leading me into yet another its something thats a part of what this legacy has become welcome to the delta at delphi the cormorants wail and dive across the lake the troubled spectre raises his sceptre with great disdain and trembles under its crushing weight its right but not quite that simple to fall slowly from the mouth like ashes of a phrase that once stood tall made political statements cower trembling and knelt before the sinning wall its grace this scene dont understand and I can relate it aint too late to compensate for what the lateness of the hour demands its falling now falling far too fast what duty this victors been given is one thats far too melancholic to believe its something thats a part of what this legacy has seen welcome to my grieving room of fearsome pillars and the candles that adorn the hollows that the wall does hide from daylight as though from scorn this trouble speaks of mirth and loveliness its too far removed from what I see theres nothing now worth waiting for this life will be the death of me welcome to the forest where at this noons-even we seek shelter from the daylight that pursues us from above the gentle clarity of starlight is all we need to guide us welcome to the patriarchal archetype welcome to the neighbourhood of flesh and disease welcome to the father figure of pestilence the barbaric actions they conceal welcome our gates are standing still welcome our followers leave of their own will youll not resort to that unless I say theres no end less victorious I dont entreaty such treason it harbours a lust for life I deplore theres nothing now worth waiting for theres nothing but time to introduce the idea of waiting for the end to come and running out of patience as though we cant wait for the setting sun to burst forth from the shadows and lead a revolution time will endear itself to theres nothing here worth waiting for I know it just as well as you theres nothing here to fend off the ghosts of night they speak to us a melody they cry for shelter from their demons this night will bring about the death of me welcome to visions of grandeur welcome to generous and benevolent forces welcome to a philosophical instinct its philanthropic but come to late to endorse these gentle graces with which Im oddly familiar I espouse the genius of mediocrity I leave a legacy behind that history will revere me for for now the first hours of the afterlife are awaiting me welcome to a reinvention of this eloquent paraphrasal of some bobdylanesque slow train coming event you know you gotta serve somebody this day will not be the best of days this time will not falter but halt its pace theres no better way to end this disgrace. |