Nothing to say in my defense, no material offers to
make amends; inner power enables me to mostly
balance on the edge of the abyss - wishing life’s
battle ended so I could rest, drop my vigilance,
exist just as pure consciousness without shame
of eternal failure
Less intelligence all I cherish are feelings, a loving
atmosphere, strong emotions, everlasting joy of
constructing an ethereal bubble where I am safe,
free to create my own dreams since the sharp lines,
garish colours and grating sounds of reality cannot
match luminous beauty of my visions
Nothing I visualise can be realised in holographic
three-dimensional reality perceived through five
senses, only stories entailed in narrative imperative
are honoured and valued - attempts to infuse reality
with meaning lead to deception, failure and rejection,
I keep my ideas above and beyond ...
... in an alternative dimension where thoughts
manifest in pitch, taste, colour, rhythm, fragrance,
texture, form and temperature; representing love,
anger and fear - without intervening events…
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Dying Eventually
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