The present is a creation,
It is used against the weak to relief them from the fear of tomorrowNow, is just a synthetic thread of
Obsession
A sheer thread of the nonexistentNow, is the dying salvation of crossing the road.
The future;
A perception from the past
Of what is now -Tomorrow will be yesterday
And today will never beTime is just the counted lies of our deathless juvenescence
Time is the union of dead stars
Having to awaken from the violent sadistic energies of the demon's prayersTime is a constant step of repetition
Time is the revelation of what earth has obscured
Time is a heart that fails to love
A heart that fails to fathom the falls it fell
A heart that quivers for words un-recited
A heart longing to kiss the wounds of the skeletal youth of what life was like
Of what it could beKisses thirsty for the salty lies running down "victims" cheeks
Kisses hidden in the screams of the devil's naive sinners.
And as his eyes averted to the ticking clock
He bled the blues of the wasted time he's wasted on meThe countless fires he tended to breath
Ignited the bones of weeping willowsAnd as the wind swept the ash
Art was rebornThe art of broken bones
And of floral lungs
That drown in his loved ones' decayThe earth, in moving time
Did not paint art
Yet have managed to create itIt was found in his blindness
As his conception depicted the ocean battling with the shoreHe was I -
And I, heHe was the mind
That failed to claw on the trapped emotions of his inner brute.And as time authored death
Astrology was the gratitude of the devil's foreign hisses.