Rainbow Children →
The Dreaming and the Dead
apocalypsepoet: There are no new souls Because energy can neither Be created or destroyed, The essence of life is recycled, Leaving us with only the Dreaming and the dead. Those in dawning success, And us in our dusky hells, Our very existences And every actions merely The slow illusory machinations of time, To create our fictional dramas, That would fuel the waking dreams and...
Dependent on (n)one
So the moment I realise there are elements of my personality that act as charlatans. They sabotage my relationships from beneath me, however – they do offer me the answers I used to crave. They don’t hide away from me and act out fairly brazenly, while I sit back. How do I cherish this day, the day of revelation. So I decided to grab this nonsense by the horns and take it aside. With a stern...
Rich as the night. Everything changes and everything remains the same. Nobody need understand invisible poetry. My heart is walking around with its palm stretched out, so I’m taking it home and letting it ‘chase the delight, rich as the night.’ AfroBlue.