The devil tries to sustain its nourishment from my underlying walkways and enchanting ideas, magical alleyways of fantasies filled with galaxies of mystical mists of grace and effort running from my soul to my mind, my heart to my eyes, my ears to my touch, my time to my place trying to find out knowledge and education, truth and forgetting devastations, writing and reading, loving and praying, exercising and changing -----
perfection into me.
I create all I feel from emotions and vast wilderness into the beauty of familialarity. Seeking hope from corners of reality and breathing dreams of treasures… this is me. Very beautiful, I try and protect all my gold and silver of important strength. I collected all my needs from years of hard work and trying. Almost centuries of dedication ----- to unravel the conquests of my ancestors and let roll their genes into mine. As I eat, sleep and wonder, I unfold all my abilities into this world… my room. I lead all my silences into critical words and I see all my hardships as beautiful tasks… easy twisted layers I can break down.
How then, is this not all food for the hungry devil?
Its jaws piercing the normality, I bleed madness out of my sweet veins. Hard work seeps out in an instant, I am hurt, damaged, ---- down. As the devils flesh swells with love for free kisses of my humanity and my sanity, tender with love, he heartbreaks all the chances and connecting roads I built. As he infests me with mistakes and riddles of never ending regret I try and be strong, HOLD ON, but I fall in wrong. Images I drew of the future are erased, colors I discovered blacken into centuries of darkness, blotches of tears grow, and erosions of fears accumulate as forgotten sediments in my body. The effects are fatal. Immediately the devils talents replace mine, sucking freedom and invading life ----- like malaria ----- I start to feel chains of angry memory and sorrow, wrapped in a web of failure. No special wings of mine can butterfly me away. My lungs start to fill with deceiving temptations, mutations of diffusions of conniving air, perfusions of explosions of degrading despair, fusions of illusions hard to repair, expulsions of my revolutions that are shattering here and there. I sink deeper and slower into confusion and grievance for my dead time here on earth. Taken the time to make a city of a wonderful personality, only to let it become ruins from the earthquakes of the devils loud THUMP.
I am dented from the heavy lumps
The large clumps
Of dump
The devil has garbaged me into------------
(To be continued)
I create all I feel from emotions and vast wilderness into the beauty of familialarity. Seeking hope from corners of reality and breathing dreams of treasures… this is me. Very beautiful, I try and protect all my gold and silver of important strength. I collected all my needs from years of hard work and trying. Almost centuries of dedication ----- to unravel the conquests of my ancestors and let roll their genes into mine. As I eat, sleep and wonder, I unfold all my abilities into this world… my room. I lead all my silences into critical words and I see all my hardships as beautiful tasks… easy twisted layers I can break down.
How then, is this not all food for the hungry devil?
Its jaws piercing the normality, I bleed madness out of my sweet veins. Hard work seeps out in an instant, I am hurt, damaged, ---- down. As the devils flesh swells with love for free kisses of my humanity and my sanity, tender with love, he heartbreaks all the chances and connecting roads I built. As he infests me with mistakes and riddles of never ending regret I try and be strong, HOLD ON, but I fall in wrong. Images I drew of the future are erased, colors I discovered blacken into centuries of darkness, blotches of tears grow, and erosions of fears accumulate as forgotten sediments in my body. The effects are fatal. Immediately the devils talents replace mine, sucking freedom and invading life ----- like malaria ----- I start to feel chains of angry memory and sorrow, wrapped in a web of failure. No special wings of mine can butterfly me away. My lungs start to fill with deceiving temptations, mutations of diffusions of conniving air, perfusions of explosions of degrading despair, fusions of illusions hard to repair, expulsions of my revolutions that are shattering here and there. I sink deeper and slower into confusion and grievance for my dead time here on earth. Taken the time to make a city of a wonderful personality, only to let it become ruins from the earthquakes of the devils loud THUMP.
I am dented from the heavy lumps
The large clumps
Of dump
The devil has garbaged me into------------
(To be continued)
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