A Journal of Sorts
. o O ( of course I should be sleeping ) O o .
"Sensitive children - seeing things you don't Sensitive children - walking where you won't You can't contain her - just love her to the bone Strange little alien - acting like she don't belong Strange little alien - dancing to a different song You can't control her - just love her hard and strong Child of the Unseen - deep as the sea is blue Child of the Unseen - she ain't made like me and you Just use your heart - and love her through and through Sensitive children - wise beyond their years Sensitive children - open to a world of fears Give them your love before they disappear" ~ Mike Scott ~ reach out for the living while dying and understand life in the walking corpse, bleeding flesh shells compromising the soul of humanity... watch them tear at each others flesh, for the apparent pleasure of conspicuous consumption leads to a blinding numbness that allows for unspeakable cruelties... taste the nape of necks, the shredding of muscles, the sweat of groins... smell the passion within and don't ask why you beg for more, for you have lost the ability to explain your core... child, is your prophet still pointing to the door?... and young humanity, lust has conquered you conscience as your subconscious has learned to embrace the cruelest myth, ignorance is bliss... promise me one thing before you go... give yourself one more chance... in the arms of the stranger you call your lover tonight, remember your birth and the infinite wonder that was consumed by the oppresive fear and insatiable hungers of the flesh... remember the promise you made before... and in those final few throes of passion, embrace me as I embrace you now... one last kiss... this world has no place for your tears they will drown your heart over the years conflict consumes much more than it appears you don't see you are blinded by your fears this world has no patience for your love no time for the dreams your heart dreams of the struggle for survival fits your head like a glove and as you suffocate you create hope in visions above in dying breath whisper a truth the lost art of honesty left with your youth in final tears sail to faraway where faeries and angels tease you with play in one last sardonic laugh find comfort and peace and the folly of waiting for a final release as if life wasn't good enough for your reality and your best was afraid to be this world has no place for your pause thoughtless as ever, it was pride and passion promise more than they can give so you poison yourself just to live |
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