The dream canopy
I've been writing alot, and posting very little. I'll make it up, and advice would be really great.
Steeples arise from blithened earth
And give to rotting demons, birth
Decay will flourish in dystopia skies
And from dead minds arise, arise!
We build us a cold steel industrial hell
Where forges for warfare levianthans dwell
Starbound metropolises hang in the black
A silent container for humanity’s wreck
There statues of materialistic glory shall wink
For the modern man spends his whole life, does not think
Humans are plucked from a vast plastic womb
And grown in our poisenous oxygen tomb
Computer’s will think and will have much to say
How much will they laugh at the end of our days
For minds of the future will have no desire
They will simply be untill cast in the fire
And earth she is bleeding yet softly she smiles
For fast she will heal at the end of our trials
She might be our cradle, and maybe our coffin
But she will be green when we will be... nothing.
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Recognition, reformulation, reproduction of information
A maze of mirrors in myriad colors
Fade and shift from real, world upon world renew
Mid-mental, instrumental contemplations
Meme counterparts with no original
Mind reflect mind, deflect, reflect
Upon endless self-bestowed limitations
Electricitity, internal cranial activity
Such luminous sensitivity
With in complexity, creativity
---
A presence, a soft beating under the floor
Familiarity, unsettling serenity
Within, waits hidden animosity
On the peeling gray wall, drawing itself
In morbid lines, a picture of a bleeding brain
A breathing shadow on the floor
Casting it’s dead eyes in my directing
Project it’s gloom on me
In the mirror, my seeing holes pour red
Yet in truth, I feel them, there
Hushed wishpers from beyond the grave
Coil around me, in frigid embrace
Patterns in the paper, curl in gloomy lips
Speak in written tones
Of death, they give a glimpse:
“depths of winter are your coil my love”
In the cloudy plaster of my ceiling
Her features greet me
Subtle recognition
The paintings twist in their frames
With her depection
Going up in wounded flames
Eyes roll peculiarly
All through the night
The wood cracks in her rhythm
Her faded life forces itself into my ears
The fireplace is the tongue of hell
Inside, her scorched lungs blow
Silver winds in awkward knots
And in blistering bubbles, rots
I stab her walls, I cut her eyes
The walls bleed black
Inside I hear her cursing voice:
“My damned heart, infects you”
I shoot, I kill the rotting walls
Yet I hear her horrid call
I run the staircase down, far down
Its splintered skin curls, encloses me
The building’s brewing bile
Beckons with a repulsive smile
The scent of her melting
The sounds of her suffering in so many
Beautiful wild colors, dancing
At last below in the dank confinements
I find her skeletal form
The incinerator vomits crimson foam
All the rest of her
The walls...
They drank it all
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