teenage-crisis

The darkness moved in … covering the sun. The event invaded the dreams of young and old. For years they lived in the world they'd grown to love. As time goes you tend to be content with the idea that you're screwed. Much was the amazement of the masses when spears of light vaporized the dark below. Enough to disrupt their stagnant demise, despite the greatness and purity of the sun they hid. They're skins white and streaked with blue veins cowered away for the cleansing. Change. For years the events of the sun had been prophesied in the Laws of The Illumines. Dated in blood back to the days when man was none existent. The orange black outlin

Its attack! And abandonment It's in vile redemption that you've coated with the mishap and mayhem of yesterday's news Your vision despite insight forms careless hand puppets on the wall Incident and fatality were to dead in head to recall Count upon my caution to believe in the obvious I have underestimated the components of your nature Gee just my luck is it not… to thing of you like anything but Complicated in your own trivial experience! Its attack and abandonment! But you don't see it that way No one will ever see it that way They see you in beauty and veil Yet I see you in all that prevails, the same Yet that mig

Chain to chain I'm linked to you and you to me. In the reality of this statement, I was shown fault. This impurity that carefully remained hidden, In violet light stood out like the stains on your unclean sheets. Silly fool, foolish child, you were never meant to know. To know the audacity of your existence, Or the beauty of red on snow. For classic hours have caused this thought to bend The bar of realities prison cell and fascist trends. In delight freedom looks real, But in de-dark I've controled what you feel. So in fullish attempts to become whole I thought of my link to you. I thought of the chains of society that hold

Cut to the bonds of broken wrists, Broken lies to bloody clenched fists, Awake to find the doubt in safe reading, Which brings death closer to the preceding, By birth your death is set, So live with no regrets.

Never able to speak Never able to say All the things that I could When he passes my way Do i say something first? Or let it pass me by Should I really even care? If I didn't it would be a lie So as for making the first move I'll move away Nothing will turn out If I stay And should I decide to let him go I'll just be one less person that he'll never know

The confidence of the already baffled state of mind Depicted a less than truthful statement, "It was I who said it first." It was the maker and breaker that stopped the state- Meant to be a follower but lead the way. Meant to have insight but went astray, Impeding the meaning of carelessness. It was the start of the second based redness, Blue on yellow with paper cuts, scarlet. Light house in the remoteness far lit. Far more redeemable than this Was the endless unhappiness of unattainable bliss. The cost of the alchemy of followers of lead Gold in the heat but with kosher dry bled. And the man that started this halfhear

The commotion from the night before Massacred the endless surrealism In two half's that clearly defined reality. It's death was the residing state of hell, Who callously scouted the last refuge of life. On discovery, the massacre began. Brains and thighs split in surreal equality With thrusting from surrounding impurities. A multiple orgasm in sophisticated, surreal, simplicity, Defined the beginning of the nights massacre. At the end the dead lay still. Decay and maggots resided in the state of hell, And silence was the last refuge of life.