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It Plays

when everything fails to be anything atall and itall starts to sound the same againe


opening up to a friend closed circus figured it will always happen anymore times than


entertainment couldst almost cadaver the applausing hands stitching up the sand


every drop of dew suspended and kept, kept and bled, bone white appendix barely


red forward upended twas just the feather keeping place the date marked names


written upon the sleeve in cursive signatures from the pens each to lead the inner


pocket of the fine pressed suit vest oft behad, beheld at the dance, be left, bereft


be anything drifting off beneath the moonless stars manuevering through spaces


time, time's space is within a glass somewhere far away from being lamped the desk


temple the court sways fishing for the worst of games drowning in the moat of a slave


thats the riches, thems the boot, breaker breaker buy me a bitter more bitterest lest


thy open curtain call upon the most hideous of masks seeping in through the cracks


which will it be than aye what was it against the light of a dawning day dusting away


that feather hear it writing scratching away itself again and again the circles square


the squared case cursing always walking in reverse upon the footprints left upon the


scene entering in the same way twice behind the mindless dew magnified by eyes in


the realm of spiders climbing tree limbs flailing chains all of this rattling all of this noise


all of it all of it all of it meaningless meander through the meadow oft belongs once to


whom lost his mind they do say they do lost it to the falling precipice deep beneath thy


heart wherefore art dost leave a touch the music, smart, the tune of the begger flute


drifts dangling seamlessly upon the midnight lucidity corrupting it is the thoughtful it is


hanging around all things the same from the ceiling the candles get them lighted the


table make it set prepare thy most ugliness give unto the worst and the best and mix them


make them thy bitter performance of heel clicking mastery faster see to it now the setting


the scene the menagarary in the library each the book it contains is far greater than the title


it has made far more so the words one hast erased evermoreso the meaning, nothingness to


a beast, emptiness at the precipice of the most glaring light blind eyes seeing all to be one


and two and three the same three two and one thing everything once was nothing you see


now you see everything hidden for to be all things revealing like a dove ripped the wings off


it twas a dirty theif even the windows shrieked the wood i swear it before the step was taken


the wood shaken stirred the curtains and the fire weeped pouring blood over all the portrait


one and the same down the hallways forever to play stop motion soliloquey barely a change


between each the paintings diamonds hang held by chains the candleflames, see it is it is


almost looks as if they are floating but it is a horrible trickery the most thick of theives I


swear it looks better at night in the most awful light in the most prideful prance of the


broken flight steps and cracks the bones they scream the wings they linger from the tearing


veins black blood splatters over all over all of it everything ruined thrown over the shoulder


the stone hits the stone stairways steps clinking and clattering toward the chamber forget it


thinketh nought below twas just above heareth doth thee the bells wringing out the white


gloves blood into a cup kept upon the mantle for to sink a glass eye put the book where


have yet to enter have further days left to waste away into the nothingness of strings they


all sound the same they all vibrate they all hurt the mind in ways the brain trying to escape


clawing at the knife just for a jump back clinging at the sheets for a come back shaking the


legs like electricity you hideous fiend this the wicked hallway this the fiendish dance oft for


the meadow kneeling, ha, broken, moreso, collaspsed overtaking the mindless mind with


conscious awareness of the things floating round about, careless, and, at the emotionless


distance from the other side of the precipice, where was it again, the measureless rise and


fall the clouds they move throughut the sky without thought, without thinking, thoughts to


be alive by the time it was moving within me I caught it by the hindlegs and, crying out for


to be gone by the time I return from the garden i swear it, what fun it is to be one beneath


the sun burning to forget existence, how is it that the lucid play, outside the walls of the


dalliance for an ever setting sunless day, so far into graey that, that sun, feelth it nought the


same, sunshines different above each the levels oft believed in paradisial frolicing, truly


was it so to be a masquerade, tell me again then what is it now the date, what is it now the


time for to be clocking away the hours by the second hand counting minutiae barely the


sand couldst contain each the heaviness of a rice grain for life it takes me away for night


i find i could only dream of an escape for rife it is the mind to begin once more at the trick



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