What secrets lie deeper Than sleeping abysses Than tombs of Ulysses Or fixed moon-eclipses Of frequencies seeping Like squeaky transmissions
By Michael Brandon Marchese4 years ago in Poets
Untethered, Storm-weathered Returning to sender Of letters undead To this nether-world Feather, Forever-ascender
Abandon all hope Ye who enter my domain For once you go in There's no leaving my brain A relic of the darkest age Gothic bells of Notre Dame
Waiting around I converse with myself Climbed a tree today Picked some bananas to sell Or to barter With shopkeepers
I like feeling empty Not sick to my stomach Without you Indulging My trip to the summit But with you Beside me
Been years Since the last time I saw them And now To learn they have departed This world Brings me down Even though
He gazed upon the ugliest Visage he ever saw Examined long the grim complexion Counting each and every flaw Of imperfection staring back
There is just too much possible Human capacity Shrouded in secrecy Sealed in mendacity Boxed away, locked In a crate
It creeps in like a spider Lays eggs in my head Which hatch into serpents Whose venom will spread Like a bubonic plague
There’s rarely any joy Left in leveling the playing field Kill or be killed And the world doesn’t want a shield Only to sleep and to work
Only time will tell If it's the end of mine I long to find Or just the new beginning When I lose all track of rhyme In loss of mind and lost control
Time to get weird with it What shall it be Feeling mad science-fictional Brain chemistry An augmented demented Unreality
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