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Literature Text
Adjoining circuses run their rings around the rosie,
There were so many, many clowns...
They overrun the clouds in the sky,
Passing over with gloomy disdainful tears,
Crying against patient vacant irises;
Leaning into the sacred sadness
Fading, bleeding into fallen faith...
Brushing silken sorrows against betrayed lacrimosa,
Going against the grain only to fall through the cracks...
This train of thought has gone off the tracks;
Breaking, surrendering itself to the cold, dreaded abyss,
Marksman taking aim at the end of time...
The rhythm was never meant to rhyme,
Heavenly occult of dismal dwellings,
All for the one who is 'Om'...
I lie in shadows, chosen to fall,
And I... wait...
Ah, the sacred dreamers, how they change me...
I am just a slight of the hand,
A shade, a simple hue,
And though I may be slight,
I am alight, with love,
Without hate...
Numbers thine immortal enemy;
For they truly do numb you,
Where it hurts, in your mind...
The logic is dulling your senses to the truth,
For it can never be every possibility,
Hence lies your troublesome blunder,
However, I suppose it shall become itself,
Unbecoming in respite.
What will you do,
Once your sacred geometry has gone askew?
There were so many, many clowns...
They overrun the clouds in the sky,
Passing over with gloomy disdainful tears,
Crying against patient vacant irises;
Leaning into the sacred sadness
Fading, bleeding into fallen faith...
Brushing silken sorrows against betrayed lacrimosa,
Going against the grain only to fall through the cracks...
This train of thought has gone off the tracks;
Breaking, surrendering itself to the cold, dreaded abyss,
Marksman taking aim at the end of time...
The rhythm was never meant to rhyme,
Heavenly occult of dismal dwellings,
All for the one who is 'Om'...
I lie in shadows, chosen to fall,
And I... wait...
Ah, the sacred dreamers, how they change me...
I am just a slight of the hand,
A shade, a simple hue,
And though I may be slight,
I am alight, with love,
Without hate...
Numbers thine immortal enemy;
For they truly do numb you,
Where it hurts, in your mind...
The logic is dulling your senses to the truth,
For it can never be every possibility,
Hence lies your troublesome blunder,
However, I suppose it shall become itself,
Unbecoming in respite.
What will you do,
Once your sacred geometry has gone askew?
abyssaimarrowarrowsbalancebetrayalbetrayedblundercircuscloudcloudscryingdarkdisdainfuldulldullarddullingendendoftimeenemyeverythingevilflowersfriendgloomyhatehatredimageryimmortallovelovermarksmanmemorbidnumbnumbersnumbingoddspoempoemspoetryrainrespiterevengesacredsensesskyspitetakingtearfultearstemperancetimetroublesometruthvengeancevengefulvividyouyourtemperingallcrydespite
There's no right or wrong answer, but... I would really love to know other people's interpretations of this one... ♥
Comments8
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Ooooo I love this one! It's full of so much magic, lool x3 I'd have a lot of trouble interpreting it myself, but it seems like a really deep work It's super cool and I like the metaphors~