From dark places with dark thoughts, I return
Aware now of malignant agendas
Dream-woken and passion-weary, I yearn
For simpler days spent in love’s soft splendour.
I have seen verdant vistas turn to ash
Cerulean seas dry Vermillion
Bastion walls, weak pretenses, can’t last
Fragmented victims, numb’ring millions .
The rigours of Love are manipulations,
Poesy and art, a form of Vengeance,
Our lives, an illusion of salvation,
The tragedy, our struggle with sentience.
Love; thy necessary mechanism
Thou art but a primal despotism.
irrelevantreveries 