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Verse XIII (B)

in visions vast forgotten bliss all things moving go emptiness all things empty through suffer


all is blacknesses deeper black blood drawn for the madness of bloody thoughts thinking as


if blood drops from black clouds black blood into a black clowns black tongue drip the drops


of nothingness of endless engulfment in black flames the black light black again the blackest


stream drawn symphony synthesized for alchemy drawing back the mindless belief that all is


blacknesses epiphany my shadow speaking riddling things my mind grasped for grass when


falling for wind like standing at the edge of the precipice for the world to spin cloud-like in


spaces few and far between inverting what is a brain once was diamond sands crushing align


and find thyself a dead man more deader than a death's head more questions then answers


more answers re-imagined more lost than fountains liquid gold sitting on the ledge of the


precipice with feet swinging lost in the black drip that dropped from the black clouds above


the labyrinth suspended in mid airs drift at once and the same time looking in the reflection


of the face in the mirror white porcelain touching nought once the fires held at a distance


away in the missing light from candle's wick barely ignited the surface of the table's place


shadow within caught staring at the reflected face from the mirrors reflective surface for


two eyes hollow in both directions all follow and turn all gears complete the halt and step


all a distance in the desert sand all a long lost friend all two shaking hands for the basket


at the knees of the crowned prince hung on the wall just waiting for a slipped kiss for lips


whom speak nought but madnesses dripping drop from the inverted black clouds laughing


it off sky blue sky with white smoke from pipes whiddeld with clenched teeth biting trees to


find the soul bleeds sugary sweet to be set free from roots dug deep in stone breaking bone


the best laid plans of men like mice traps of clouds from heavens devised by mind's self to


torturous spiritual ligments ripping at the muscles for release like veins bulging trying snake


like to devour the lucid mind because all things lost within find all things without meaning or


for morals device mortally inclined to die and find all things disappear before ever there was


an I and in the basket the whirlling madnesses a diamond from the eggshell gold serpent


venom from reflective black scales weighing true and false each side the weight of time lost


more lost to time than time's clock, the hourglass, then, each half spinning majestic from top


left to right, from bottom right to left, and back and forth forever again and again and again


and when it is that something is known is something that is it what for whom and for nothing


and for all that could have been and for all that truly is a joust within just fencing the spider


legs with eight hands tied behind the back and still losing sand dwindling diamonds erasing


songs fainting paint drip from walls portrait framed for a dove and wings torn off before the


feather was stolen to write with ink quills black liquid drop from rainbows falling cloudless


sky the eyes in the incalcuable realm drifting into jeweled scripts of golden fires round the


corpses dancing endless shadow reaches for the apple of the plucked brain from the angle


of the reflective diamonds face to taste the liquid earth's caught tear from spider's poison


hourglass brought to hell's heaven and found blood covering the ice laid pond palm frond


dropped and cutting the foot of the walking gypsy through deserts wrought of broken glass


for sand leaving prints in red for death walks with one round the mountain strings pulling


deep within for tuning's grand piano wrenching the mind for trees hollow eyes to find each


one contains another shadow one more dance for the wicked fiend, you fiend, one more


eyeless blind mans weep one more skull cracks whipping tooth pulled and caught by silk


spiders threaded needles dead end dull knifes cut deeper when pushed to the limit of


sanity and find thyself more insane find I more lost within the woody grain painting by a


prophetic oracle read in reverse in words falling like rainfalls like leaves fall in the stream


from the child king whistling the tune again holding hands with death beneath a golden


tree for winter's grey sun for sound and moon for weight skipping tongue ran too far away


i used the search bar just this once because i completely forgot where i was, were we are

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