Monday, November 9, 2009

A Portrait Of A Burning House

Yearning seems to be a need these days your vision is so distorted.
You couldn't distinguish regardless of circumstance.
Born dirty and bloody into an evil world waiting savagely to eat you alive.
Still your the daring darling to believe in something sweeter!
How did you come to exist like this?

Captivated so completely by any thought you think to understand.
You convince yourself of a future that's just a luminous horizon away.
It's terrible dear, don't you see, the horizon always leaves you behind!
Even still if all your hopes and dreams were granted,
you'd contrive an excuse to destroy the very evidence you ever wanted
for something that was realized.
You always do, you always will.
Destroy the very thing that breathes you life.

But that is your predisposition in this fickle physical plane.
You'll doubt you know this or that it is a valid argument
but in truth it's your bitter breakdown.
Your empty flaccid gumbo of what surrounds you.

The person is best, to set themselves on fire,
For that destruction is less still than
the unavoidable damage they will eventually do
throughout their lifetime.
We are dammed. We are damned damaged goods!
Why, darling, do you deny your vices?
You know as well as I sooner than later
all good things must come to an end!

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