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Was this really what we'd hoped for 9:14 p.m. 2004-11-04 Sign your letters in notes of blue and gray and return this sacrificial lamb to a womb of everafters and tyrannical self preservation. Would you be my vision and can i be the bearer of this gift on the day of your neverender and suicide was always a dream fill with conflicting self interest and the guilt of those left behind. When your consequence is a readily loaded gun and you're only hope for tomorrow is an intervention of heart we are bound to this survivalist agenda. Your voice was heard but you'd given the wrong answer and we all were blown into blissfull delusions of a time four years from now when maybe things can be set right. Trigger this reflection with intelligence and a clever countenance that counted for nothing when revelations ran dry. Parked on the boulevard we are waiting for a savior to appear, bloodless and complete. These artifacts are writ with the runes of a neolithic philosophy that meant everything and polluted its meaning with time and triviality. rivers run into nightmares and we lost all sense of morality at the hand of political well being and nonsensical return to concrete methods of putting one foot on top of the heads of our enemies. THe other is reaching for a brand new grandeur. In these last hours the electricity humming through our veins is enough to keep us alive but fiberglass and steel structuring can't make us feel. Violations regarded at the hand of those rife with apprehension these dawns are ridden with bloody souls. Revered silence can't you teach me these lessons and sing the song that no one hears in the abandoned alley and these ruined stations? Scatter these memories on empty streets, where passing cars can take hold of hope and revitilize industry falsifying. Follow me across this intersection, concrete miles wide, blow me away with your kiss and the 44 calibers you kept close to your heart. Sing me a lullaby to say goodbye as we whisper too late and walk away. Trip wire catasrophic, chains bind apart flesh from bone as the nightmare ends in a blaze of sulfur and the stench of powder. Through the cracks on the sidewalk we tell the story of our lives and the footprints are revisions of endless history ripping apart our fairy tales. The wings that lifted you shattered in the faintest breeze and your profession of delight died on your lips. Contributions are failing as you plumment to earth, mind full of past regrets and the conscious that has a stranglehold on your freewill. As she drove that switchblade into the heart of the matter all hope for a better tomorrow died on crimson lips that sighed your name. When love conquers freedom we are chained to masochism and the disillusionment of relationships failing and the third storey window is calling you. Beckon to her in the throes of qualms that racked your body and destroyed your portraits of crystalline landscapes blooming under the frost on her eyelashes. Cover this fence in broken glass and keep the world out as you smash the bulbs and bathe in the birth of a incessant darkness that steals our youth away. Was this all we ever had to say? "Was this all we'd hoped for?" back & forth |