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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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