Thursday, February 28, 2008
Why dost thou havth such painful eyes that bleed me.
Is this it? Have I finally come through to what is perceived as the final destination? How did I even come to this place, this freshness of the air, this purity of thought.
All in a dream. A passing illusion that blows the scent, as if taunting, by my eyes.
They burn. Oh how they burn so painfully. Spare me the pain. Please? Oh please. Why do you look upon me with watchful thoughts? How can you bear to leave me in my corner to heave my crown of thorns on my own? I don't understand. I do not understand.
Water - breather of life. God is pouring out my eyes, benevolently watching them bleed as he / she gushes out with unfeeling pressure. My covenant with Him is complete, but yet all is not entire, the job is still undone. I tear at these sights. These sights which are lay and folk in every aspect and angle of them. Is it the over demanding of my expectations? That the green I see just isin't green enough. Or the chirping just isint mellow enough to be music. I tear. I weep. I sow.
And I revert back to my corner once more. The valley towards it - a representation of my bodily pain. These eyes that stare at me whence i walk through, they are comforting. They are not real. Reality hurts. The law of reality dictates that death is absolute. The law of death orders men to cower in their own corner. Men are transient. Death is amaranthine. I see a man emerging from the wall. A man who, like me, crawls in as if his limbs have been absorbing the cries of the world, to be distorted and without form.
I stare through his eyes. I found my companion. His were the eyes that were so deep they seemed to hook you and brutally drag you in, akin to a slaughter house but yet they allure with a sense of harmlessness and innocence beyond compare. His were eyes of remarkable beauty and yet speak of such sophistication no Man could comprehend without aid. He has seen what suffering's true form is. He is enlightened with knowledge that we all live
seeking aimlessly and yet only he has so easily attained. Or did it come with a price?And i realised something. I found eyes that believed in me. I found eyes that shared the same tint as mine.
I am the Man In The Mirror.
There is absolutely no reference to Michael Jackson's Man In The Mirror apart from it being the song I am listening to now and the title being coincidentally apt.
Who's going to buy neverland?
Is this it? Have I finally come through to what is perceived as the final destination? How did I even come to this place, this freshness of the air, this purity of thought.
All in a dream. A passing illusion that blows the scent, as if taunting, by my eyes.
They burn. Oh how they burn so painfully. Spare me the pain. Please? Oh please. Why do you look upon me with watchful thoughts? How can you bear to leave me in my corner to heave my crown of thorns on my own? I don't understand. I do not understand.
Water - breather of life. God is pouring out my eyes, benevolently watching them bleed as he / she gushes out with unfeeling pressure. My covenant with Him is complete, but yet all is not entire, the job is still undone. I tear at these sights. These sights which are lay and folk in every aspect and angle of them. Is it the over demanding of my expectations? That the green I see just isin't green enough. Or the chirping just isint mellow enough to be music. I tear. I weep. I sow.
And I revert back to my corner once more. The valley towards it - a representation of my bodily pain. These eyes that stare at me whence i walk through, they are comforting. They are not real. Reality hurts. The law of reality dictates that death is absolute. The law of death orders men to cower in their own corner. Men are transient. Death is amaranthine. I see a man emerging from the wall. A man who, like me, crawls in as if his limbs have been absorbing the cries of the world, to be distorted and without form.
I stare through his eyes. I found my companion. His were the eyes that were so deep they seemed to hook you and brutally drag you in, akin to a slaughter house but yet they allure with a sense of harmlessness and innocence beyond compare. His were eyes of remarkable beauty and yet speak of such sophistication no Man could comprehend without aid. He has seen what suffering's true form is. He is enlightened with knowledge that we all live
seeking aimlessly and yet only he has so easily attained. Or did it come with a price?And i realised something. I found eyes that believed in me. I found eyes that shared the same tint as mine.
I am the Man In The Mirror.
There is absolutely no reference to Michael Jackson's Man In The Mirror apart from it being the song I am listening to now and the title being coincidentally apt.
Who's going to buy neverland?
what we could have been, 8:13 PM.
