25.12.09

oh

Drums of war.
Then, the drums of war. Everything is coming on you, on the rest, whether it has been forseen or no one has stopped to think about it. What's blood now but the commonest of the liquids, laid to waste & taken for granted as part of the landscape, the view? What's a life but a tonic, whose effect fades unexpectedly, a tonic which is consumed by the imperviously strong as a formula for eternity, and by the uncontrollably lost as the gates of salvation, both wishing it to fade out since what lies ahead (what actually does not, does never, ain't at all) shines harder?
So go grab a gun & shoot & fight for the false well-being & the status quo that those who are deemed as your fathers brought wrapped in a tiny box of gold. So then slash all flesh in the search for forgiveness & a ticket to grace & the infinite love & drink & food & smiles of one who has supposedly made you.
Pests osmosed into, thus unto each soul on the planet, tore greens & bleus & reds & tunes & motion & ignition & that which cannot be counted as matter.
Oh the Earth trembles.
And I am by the grass, sipping & inhaling, with eyes on the skye. I've hidden horrours in my pockets & sores behind my ears, while keeping nightmares handy. You should know why...
There are dreams of contradiction and ones to contradict.
O so trapped, overwhelmed, disregarded, welcomed, sunk, flown, flowing, dreamt, nightmared, day-slept, numb, so numb, speechless, smiling, attacked, unharmed, torn, born, free...
And I am by the grass, holding onto somebodies, hand in hand with her, hope in mind.
Re-direct...

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