Swimming the Moon.

by onthebus2002

Posted to Stories on 2002-09-23 11:36:00

A dusty film lays over my soul.To look upon a rose, it seems now, tinged blue. Veinlike clouds thread through the skies, serpents leave tracks over time. My sight hindered for so long.The twisting sound of a centuries vibration, once the beat to life’s dance, now the heavy noise of morning traffic, constant and indignant in its stance.My voice, a distant memory of poetry and fairytales, sings alone and tune forgotten, becomes nothing in still air.
Too long lay the emptiness of my demise, too old the constant battle for discovery.
How in the budding presence of youth, have I decieved my very maker? Too soon the lines of time etch upon a once paper pale face, a face waiting to be coloured by the dreams of now.
I listened for her, and she paid no promises. She held her head, in gaudy light, mocking the darkness I had spread, like thunder over myself. ‘Too high’ she laughed and disappead through day.
I face the day.
I told myself,I am equilibrium, I am the darkness for this day.
The mind craves self satisfaction, an agreement of sorts between thought and action that you are right. I fought a battle,and became something new.
Do not judge my actions, they are not me, they are not my mind, they are the turning thorns on a rose, they are the hollow weed, they do not belong in the sceptre of my kingdom. Do not judge my actions, they are not me.
I forgot the sound of your voice last night. And an earthquake occoured, no joke.
I forgot the single syllablled song of the masses, the rushing war song of time.I was alone in my silence.
Tomorrow I will wake.
Tomorrow I will wake.

Haze

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