Never was so lonely as the night with all it's dreams of yesterday encapsulated within a moments hesitation and then tomorrow dawns a new year to find the screaming body dragged from the final breath of the previous chapter and into darkness. clouds fill the sky dark and gray with flurries of snow and worries of man that fall and lie deep upon the fields of thought until the vista is such that even memory can not recognize it's twisted features a thing of beauty? a white demon? who knows what others see behind the windows of their souls who hears their silent screams and runs protective to cradle them within awaking dreams of how it should have been it could have been if only the dice had fallen even how can life be decided by the flick of a wrist? And what of chapters new? of fields yet untrodden and future speak of what you seek alone but not so sure filled with doubts of how much longer can the fear of the past remain before it bites upon the very substance of the soul inside and leaves the dreamer spineless and crippled with no place left to wander and no mind left to wonder just dribbled gibberish of take him off to treatment? And each heartbeat is differant now each blink of the eye see's a differant dream and no seasons exist no maps remain the world is differant a new horizon hovvers virgin world of o so scarey and who will write the chapters if the spirit breaks? And within each moment is a lifetime a million plans a billion schemes and each is shattered like the waking dream on frosty mornings where the cold drags you screaming before your memory grasps the purpose of it's nocturnal quest. Are tears so personal that others can not share the salt of wounds without the being of the purpose and if they can then how is there injustice while we speak of compassion or is the only passion the heavy breathing fucking of an animal disguised as man and lonely as the night vacant and apart except in electric moments of need. What is a tear anyway? And what purpose is in pain that we can't feel the thoughts of others in our microbiotic ever healthy take a pill of wealth and beauty cut price in a sale cuz everything is yours if the price is right consumer vaccumer of suck the whole world dry and shaft it if it's sleeping just because your father said you had to just cuz grandma wants the best for you Footstep or thought? the commencment of action no distraction a new chapter and where is it? who knows the floating impulse of roll the dice pray for nice but take a frozen road if the gods wish and pray that this time like other times you live to rue the day you ever went away instead of dying like all the others did cuz the fuckers said defeat was not acceptable and walk on walk on and journey to the place of sin so once again you might begin in twisted tombs of what the fuck is happening? what destination on the ticket? whatever place seems right when stolen credit cards are traded for another place another face and who will I be next the boy died first and then the artist and then... always dying never living chapter after chapter and now the poets dead not one more word will fall like autumn leaves and as the spring turns the rotting decay of a forgotten dream will fade from memory to be replaced by yesterday before the ghost came...
