Steep ridge of life
Tomorrow never comes until it’s too
late, all mistakes are already expedited into full reality. And this madness
rules the deviant residue of thoughts as a consequence of this moral
corruption, a madness that can never be undone. In the heat of the summer, jacked
affection for living remains, twisted as it is, perverted to the bone, only
another form of stability.
Years by now mark this living on the
edge, occult dancer maintaining steady balance on the steep ridge of life,
choosing willingly insomnia that also can’t be undone. Because days are way too
bright, and nights are only short for what needs to be done. Actions have
erased any trace of lines, and what lies ahead can’t be taken into account,
nothing is predictable anymore, it beckons… all awaits undreamed.
In the forgotten need for silence of my
untamed astonishments…
Inspirational
ReplyDeleteVery good! May I keep a copy of this for my own readings? Of course I will promise to keep your name on it.
ReplyDeleteSure thing, glad you like it:)
Delete