Manifold Damage and caustic burnout. The limp, capitalistic princes all keep falling from their towering palaces; climbing their entire lives away, the poets drinkup and vomit out their rage (aren’t all of us sad poets of our lives?). The lives of commoners now very common indeed. All looking to climb the staircase to somewhere? (climbing still?)
People hither and thither rubbing their grimy thoughts onto others. Giving the subtle yet stark vibration of stinking burning rubble. This aint no fun place.
Everyone finding (trying) a star to their name perennially. Becoming finally the deserving stars of apathy and disgrace, everyone finding a suitable settled image of their dead selves, marrying it and becoming filthy old. Old and of no use other than further fluttering their grime to no end.
I am fed up, and I can see it in your kind soulful eyes as well beloved, such sweet romance lost cause of these old infirm idiots playing as if they knew the game. My My, why is it that we cannot take off our gaze (towards each other!) Is this some sort of drug? A melancholy which we must erase? I cannot fathom myself in this world; cannot imagine a divine trip like you to be here as well. Take my hand, we aint gonna be no poets of the fall this time around. We going to leap fly into inner space!
You kiss like the sky. Fly like the comet right into my mind. Land up like you know me, own me, and we have created a world together here and now. In such intense bliss; aint it a shame to see that we are beyond repair hah !!
Come and shine up this caustic corroded scene. Where the hearts of many are few and just ours oh lover is enough to light and show the way!
Peace
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