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Verse VII

to dive right in left it where we left it back then it was a million tasking seconds it was


a thousand different woes it was a reality making dream creation that only fools dream


of because it was the best of it and it was the worst of it and it was the highs and lows


thems was the break and it drifts away down the stream to a lucid lucidity masking a


fiend reeling in the face far too far down stream beneath the bridge past the turns in


last will and testament of luminosity ever shining mirror ever dripping painted hall ever


a longing ever just a call away yet forever forbidden forever spinning apple hangs from


metal trees holding up cotton ball clouds by a liquid sun spilling a thousand more words


roll over the tongue while sleep is dying somewhere beneath the leaves while the gate is


hanging two wooden planks between two metal trees hanging from ropes swaying in the


breeze realities ease of convincing reason dreamings deep insanity of misdirection chains


lay by the stone a boulder to the best of em and broken clasps of all of history the scene


quiet as can be quiet as the calming stream flowing into another persuasion just one more


conversation just endless receding eyes of emptiness on fire deep inside the mask kneeling


on the ground looking down the wells of hell sweeping off the leaves the dirt the overgrowth


the ever twisting vinery grabbing at the mask to keep it underground to keep it hidden from


this horrible world this nightmare marring merry wreathes placed on trunks once it was and


then it was over was it begins then its time span drifting wind thrown sand lifts and stars align


circling through a nightmare of all seeming sanitys till masked are dropped the ball begins


the candles are lit the red glow from red fire on red dresses inspired by red wines from red


lands taken from cellars with bloody hands leaving no trace of innocence the masking dance


the dancers swirl the stepping legs the horrible whirl of clutching gowns and handfuls of


pearls all breaking sounds of onslaughtering revelation all tearing at the gate all roped swing


of back and forth the gate it swings and swings and the key lies just beneath the roots of the


tangled tree all tangling web of spider's song all limbs caught all eyes stare at death naked


tied through and through settle up the remaining loose ends and not to be overdue closing


the book pulling the knife out of the spine the bells are ringing the hallways dark the door


is locked the table moved back beneath the window the notebook rests under the candle


stick and the candle lit leaping flame from the candles wick falls to drop like a sand grain


falls like a leaf falls in fall like raindrops fall and explode like dewdrops fall when they let go


and out of the window falls the gypsy man from harrowing lands whom none so dost know


someone in the forest is tearing at the mask that hideous thing that ancient complexity a


paradox of living serendipity a warship to the fleet of sinking epiphany looking back just


for an instance just for a moment just for the memory and sees the cherub child write the


sigil in the frost perched upon the highest branch of the tallest tree the crow takes off

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