revired

What is this new promise

I can ask worse questions

But I can't think

Everything should feel right

Not that it was me

I fell from grace

Should I make it easier on you

What would it take

I'm past my prime

If you ever was who I know you are

You will be eternally seething in your hatred

So much that you wish corruption upon everyone

It would seem to be my best interest

You must like it

I know you would want it back

Your glorious work and your sated dreams

Destruction would like your name

You should call me

So much

I can help you

So much

Through the wet winds

Higher then the stones in the waves

So much higher then the waves

I stand alone

I am nobody

I have no one

There are many who live this way

I know everything

Should it come to me

I would circle high

Would be an Eagle

Like a bird single and soaring

I know your name

I hear it whispering in the wind

It lives in mist

In a haze

If you must tell me something

I would not call you

I cannot live in your name

It is most foul and festered

Oddly enough I couldn't do it

It was almost gross and especially

Everything else is pale

It was only this I was afraid of

I must say

Could it have been easier

Could it master the wave

Drowning in the tides

Maybe if there was a surfboard

If there was fresh surf

Ploughing the oceans

With stars high above

However I must only confess

This is what happened

Could it have been likely

Do you feel that it is really prose?

I was not obviously elated

I must have possibly revealed no answer

I act of my own opportunity

Just like the eternity from which between comes prayer

To me it is other worldly

It is God like and pure

A coming of wisdom and temple

Of the flesh

Old women tell you this either from memory

Or from celestial scape

Told eons of a toiling womb

And of secrets we all pen

Intonations you can flutter like the wings of a butterfly

Witness everything of defilement in the storming thunder

Such is the organ wound throughout the world

Throughout the universe and in all wills

I have too much despair

Like the silence that I must unearth

Here in some time the last woven

A soul that is flawed

I was not obviously elated

I must have possibly revealed no answer

I act of my own opportunity

Just like the eternity from which between comes prayer

To me it is other worldly

It is God like and pure

A coming of wisdom and temple

Of the flesh

Old women tell you this either from memory

Or from celestial scape

Told eons of a toiling womb

In distances where oblivion assembles

Intonations you can flutter like the wings of a butterfly

Witness everything of defilement in the storming thunder

Such is the organ wound throughout the world

Throughout the universe and in all wills

Unforgiving is the world

Like a single position regarding reality

It is like order but it is like no thought

Chaos is circular it can circle

Directions under vast skies yield as dimensions

Ride the gathering storms

Jealous in the cathedrals of chaos

High is the dethroned God

Blindness too much like this

Wraps the vision by hiding

And the intent is like more sorry

Bottled to all

Unforgiving is the world

Like a single position regarding reality

It is like order but it is like no thought

Chaos is circular it can circle

Directions under vast skies yield as dimensions

Ride the gathering storms

Jealous in the cathedrals of chaos

So high is the dethroned God

Bitter wisdom is like a girl

She likes your smile

Without a doubt you know her

So you got everything

So that I have now lost

It all has been really pivotal

Focus everywhere crashes

Without trying first to wet the shore

Thoughts work in the stillness

Returning to some place

Here in the present

Words that whisper too much

If there ever has been reason

Then it must have evolved

Either so much

Or in the utter water

Lie to me

It is color

I like to color

With everyone

Lies and fictions

Colors and interconnections

Or these lies

So as within reflection

Under the morning light was a dreamy like pasture from which the cows downed fermented nectar like honey so that they could plow the fields vainly cattle like and reflected from green grass. She interconnected the fast moving reverence of the beasts vainly dreaming of the collections they rescued from the sleepy fields to the color of the fading dawn. Like dreams.

Green dreams.

For everyday there forms a new reflection. The All Core greets the new colors with evolutionary algorithms. Colors that reveal the intricate links in the All Space, veiling the coming seconds that they listen to the dreams coming before they react, in color, in dreams.

Felt.

Sleep. Remembered. Fit. Color. And more that it comes to live vast, rising like the tides of a coast greeting the ocean. However dreams do come from somewhere. Come to dream in color. And cattle. Her dream is. Viral revealing the snakes of fire that circle slithering down the coils of beasts and revolve to eternal sleep.

Still.

Sit so that everyday would please me to come between the colors of the coils that wrap around the world relenting to the darknesses of revelations. Come that revelations veil riddles that lie revealing between the color and the darkness that stillness that dreams from circles wound iterating positions revolved in evolutionary accidents crashing through the green fields like bovine demons goring the flesh of cows at free hand.

Lost dreams.

Form is like a song. A song that is like pouring rain. Rain like smell flowering scintillating from veins crashing between scenes that in fantasy could let sensations steal presences rolling in the Form Scape. So like form as clear in the flesh is color that in dreams lives engaging in stealing the promises crashing in the scent like thunder.

The light is now from fire.

In Helios like slick plasma flaming to color the All Space. In the dreams of the Titans. In me. I am the sun god.

I am Hyperion.

No man is not made in life bitten dithering so that in life he is pictured in pattern like a chromal reflection forming a render of the isochromatic infactuation of emergence fractral like a color in sentience evolving from action varying in form becoming action in viral objectivity.

And more that he is colored by night is he cast to shadow the lost altern dictioned in return from evolving algorithms in dreams so come the scatter of sentience free in the slipstream of involuntary code.

Fire is light. Light is color. Color becomes the night. Green life. Green like the fields cattle like. And there are some cattle that have sent leads battered in return between reasons. Her cattle graze like some life could live, play at omniscience. Color. I am.

Is there some dream

In this

Like a color that is dreamed

Like that

In the sun god

Like a fire

Burning in skies

And lives

Under the morning light was a dreamy like pasture from which the cows downed fermented nectar like honey so that they could plow the fields vainly cattle like and reflected from green grass. She interconnected the fast moving reverence of the beasts vainly dreaming of the collections they rescued from the sleepy fields to the color of the fading dawn. Like dreams.

Green dreams.

For everyday there forms a new reflection. The All Core greets the new colors with evolutionary algorithms. Colors that reveal the intricate links in the All Space, veiling the coming seconds that they listen to the dreams coming before they react, in color, in dreams.

Felt.

Sleep. Remembered. Fit. Color. And more that it comes to live vast, rising like the tides of a coast greeting the ocean. However dreams do come from somewhere. Come to dream in color. And cattle. Her dream is. Viral revealing the snakes of fire that circle slithering down the coils of beasts and revolve to eternal sleep.

Still.

Sit so that everyday would please me to come between the colors of the coils that wrap around the world relenting to the darknesses of revelations. Come that revelations veil riddles that lie revealing between the color and the darkness that stillness that dreams from circles wound iterating positions revolved in evolutionary accidents crashing through the green fields like bovine demons goring the flesh of cows at free hand.

Lost dreams.

Form is like a song. A song that is like pouring rain. Rain like smell flowering scintillating from veins crashing between scenes that in fantasy could let sensations steal presences rolling in the Form Scape. So like form as clear in the flesh is color that in dreams lives engaging in stealing the promises crashing in the scent like thunder.

The light is now from fire.

In Helios like slick plasma flaming to color the All Space. In the dreams of the Titans. In me. I am the sun god.

I am Hyperion.

No man is not made in life bitten dithering so that in life he is pictured in pattern like a chromal reflection forming a render of the isochromatic infactuation of emergence fractral like a color in sentience evolving from action varying in form becoming action in viral objectivity.

And more that he is colored by night is he cast to shadow the lost altern dictioned in return from evolving algorithms in dreams so come the scatter of sentience free in the slipstream of involuntary code.

Fire is light. Light is color. Color becomes the night. Green life. Green like the fields cattle like. And there are some cattle that has sent leads battered in return between reasons. Like Apollo. His cattle graze like some life could live, play at omniscience. Apollo the sun god. And like him, I too am a chariot of fire. A sun god. A color of the archer. Color. I am.

Colors in my eyes

I can see them

Like stings

A bee like sting

In the scatter of color

In the darkness of color

In the scent of color

And like you

In you I can light the sky

In the sky

I track alight

Fine light

Reason veils it like a color

Not the color

In your eyes

Everything

Faster then light

Higher then the sky

Words that seem

In your eyes

Colors in my eyes

I can see them

Like stings

A bee like sting

In the scatter of color

In the darkness of color

In the scent of color

And like you

In you I can light the sky

In the sky

I track alight

Fine light

Reason veils it like a color

Not the color

In your eyes

Everything

Faster then light

Light is never the leash

Here is light

In your eyes

Color in my eyes

I seem to like them

I can see them

In engaging the world

Night is black

Night is dark

Like color is both

So much in there

That is night

In night is dark

Dark like black color

Is how light is seen

How that is so

Is like data

Like that color is

Coming expressed by resonants

Black is that little color that absorbs

And white is matterial expression

Darkness is color that is blend

And the night is mysterious that it echoes

Gather around

I have a tale

Intimate

Like love

Wet in the rain

Sloshing by

In the stinging drops

Of water

When I was a youth

Now that I am not

I lived like the wind

Slowing down but never still

I had flesh like the Devil

And lived like hollow men

Dreaming of visions

Like the flowers of glory

When I let echo

I heard the recursion

Evolution

She lived in reminiscence

The fire is alive

It is burning

Like life, during prayers

In midnight dark

I can feel the flames

They are winding

Processes wired to render under eternity

The Ascension of Swashbuckler

Said so I did

I said to you what is this

Is this fukcing or what

I think so

I remember it

So fukcing

Is it this life

Is it a life

This is reality

It is very real

I think so

So I said