Tuesday, October 16, 2007

Consequential Overdrive

Pocketful of universes
For us to create and destroy,
Dust turns to ashes
Before we utter a cry.

No place to hide, from the consequential overdrive.

Lost highways of dawn overgrown with sullen abandon.
A bitter harvest, a sweet death, a bitter illusion.

Death, sadness,
Tragedy, madness,
The stars, our tears,
Love, fears.

We're sad again
My sweet mary jane.

I suffer
Therefore I am.

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