|
|
|
The Haunt 12:29 a.m. 2005-03-28 A brief muttering past the mute canvas settling under eager panes and severed reflections. Inept depictions. Stuttered, hobbling words destitute and irrelevant. This is something insignificant void of power and null winds crack the evocation conjuring...nothing. Static. Condemnations arise, prophetic and encompassing. Let this corruption enfold you. Yet the pretense falls hollow and outside the window the revenant are mumbling. Whispered syllables muttered in verse across empty waves transparent in airlines. Yet these aspirations are stolen. Your every word is a dedication; lay tribute to your idols. And underneath, the haunt evanescent coalesces into something to be afraid of. Consistant repetition is the cancer slicing through your future. You will become just like them. Rhetoric and tension. A reflection of your tired arrogance and the blasphemy you have created. Your sin lies not in your humanity. We are doomed to share something. The fatal blow will come in your acceptance of plagarism and the utter futility of your self-expression. Your knowledge has created a monster. Fuck you. This is to you in response to your diary back & forth |