flight surge

A bird in my hand cornered its own beak. It was there by choice. It had risen into the cavernous mouth of the blue sky, all the whole waiting to be captured by a voidful mind.

https://docs.google.com/leaf?id=0Bw1ZHk_MeXkANzc4ZmJjY2MtMTMyZi00NWFmLWJmM2YtOWNkMzM0MDY3OGFl&hl=en

pot of lie

every blue-eyed boy that
trotted along to me held in his soft hands
a inviting pot of lie.

Best brewed when served hot,
the courage that it built everytime it fell successful,
was all it needed to keep at it.

in a condition it leaves it.
the daze is overpoweringly enticing.
Help is needed to sustain the state.

all that the boy gave,
it took into its slavering mouth.
more of rockbottom played strings.

quietly it leaves it,
silent and based.
the leverage forms him his next step.

every day, in everyway, it's fading away.

the tale

how can you be sure
that you're safe in this place?
with lions on the prowl

in this place
all we can long for
is the headrush.
marbles getting re-alligned;
everything being set right

http://www.esnips.com/doc/46c35d71-4bc5-4f94-9c1f-24ea5a53dad3/the-tale

lonely soul

Lonely soul
you will find peace someday
you will find it one day

It's just around the corner...

The Puppetmaster spake...

"You were made
so they would be on to a good thing.
Your essence is the lake
which the animals gather to
when they are thirsty.

You will have seen orgies.
They will happen around you.
They will happen on you.
As you are scavenged upon,
I tick off items
on your karmic check-list.
YOU should be smiling."

The Puppetmaster spake...

"the slightest thing you want, you will have to encounter demons and brickbats. you want a nature? you want a name? here. you can be the one who is the quintessential loser. you shall be the one who, everytime someone has called someone it, is paid homage to. you want big things sometimes no? not the type of stuff 50 cent wants and has. oh no all that's too crass for mr.highness. we want the top drawer. we want things that no human has the right to want. that which no one is entitled to stake a claim for. we are the lowliest form of scum that ever didn't deserve even the minuscule honour of being labelled anything (even "scum"). ok too morbid. but that is you. you're a demon-child in the guise of a pure human. you cheat every single moment which you exist, trying to justify your "humanity". what a liar. even when you cry about the injustice of being born a human illegally, you are culpable..."

for whatever reason

Brace warriors to their task
till they can't help but fight.
Their flimsy fear must melt
at the thought of fright.

Threads of barren ground will rise
to fortify the silken skies.
Mists of reason and fog
grow stronger at the stroke of night.

Gospel sounds at the break of dawn.
Fringes catapulted into the fray.
Everyone will come one
and show each other the way.

Hoarse winds will stop screaming
their wisdom to you.
A chinese whisper will suffice
to obscure what is true.

Grow into a chrysalis that fits you.
Fidget while you can,
you will be fixed soon.

Linked laces trip over the shoe.
Starved socks breathe their stench.
Your feet are ever plunged
into the cold.

At every station
the train stops and sighs.
The tracks spelt horror.
But it managed to kill some spies.

Floating its way across the expanse,
the soul searched for an exit.
Scorched and parched,
it deserved what it got.