Meaningless Drivel
I got to thinking about all of the poeple who were once on here, and as I looked through all of the old friends I nearly suffered a minor heart attack. No one seems to be online with the exception of a brave few. It seems that so many of us have grown out of touch, or we just grw in opposite directions. It is baffling to think that one minute you are in the now, and just as soon as you get used to it, the now is now then. What a strange world we do live in indeed.
The Dark
Everything turning on this axis
is brighter at night.
Everything spinning out of control
seems clearer at night.
The liquor seems to flow sweeter
when there is the moon above.
The adoration and inner thoughts
seem less opaque under the shadow.
The blood must flow sweeter too
in the folds of dark mother's arms.
The wind seems more tame
in the watches of the night.
The dark fog makes even the eldest
question who holds the stars.
Everyone must think this
before the pass into the mist.
Their hearts beating the blood
that churns so swiftly onward.
Even the wolves seem to cry out
as if they are pained it's beauty.
If we have souls to lose
are they as black too?
It is black in the womb
and the baby lies there dreaming.
When it reaches into the light
does the infant not scream and scream and scream?
"Make me chase and continent, make me a saint among men, make me live righteously without sin, make me have no need for lust nor drink lord, but not just yet."
Saint Augustine 354-430
The Dark
Everything turning on this axis
is brighter at night.
Everything spinning out of control
seems clearer at night.
The liquor seems to flow sweeter
when there is the moon above.
The adoration and inner thoughts
seem less opaque under the shadow.
The blood must flow sweeter too
in the folds of dark mother's arms.
The wind seems more tame
in the watches of the night.
The dark fog makes even the eldest
question who holds the stars.
Everyone must think this
before the pass into the mist.
Their hearts beating the blood
that churns so swiftly onward.
Even the wolves seem to cry out
as if they are pained it's beauty.
If we have souls to lose
are they as black too?
It is black in the womb
and the baby lies there dreaming.
When it reaches into the light
does the infant not scream and scream and scream?
"Make me chase and continent, make me a saint among men, make me live righteously without sin, make me have no need for lust nor drink lord, but not just yet."
Saint Augustine 354-430