Tuesday, February 16, 2016

Demon weather

When everything is far more still than it should be
The feeling of loneliness in a crowded place
Waiting for something to strike with surprise and awe
Like some dream on the verge of taking place
Swarming like an invisible brood
That pulls the attention from all facets
Devouring as insatiable
Consumption as irreverent
what sickness do I owe this occasion
what shrine do I worship this absent god
in the miasma of tar and strife
they struggle and die
exacerbating the wounds they have placed in the earth
the wounds they have place in each other
I hear it in the steel and stone
The absentness of where I once sensed priority
Creeps like a thunderhead through the valleys of my mind
I can feel the electricity in the air
The rumble of something latent seeking freedom
The plasma of a series of conditions
Each of which exert a pressure in and out of this realm
Hungry for retribution
Towards a world they do not conceive of
And I taste in the aether
In the flick of the wrist way
That we put english on our respective realities
I smell you in the rain that falls off in the distance
I Reach you in those dreams that never come to fruition
And the low rumble of thunder that shakes the land and sky
and everything beyond
the phantoms are so much more afraid of you-
they are cursed in their limitations
and I must delve again for your identity,
in the thoughts that bite and bleed
in the teeth that snatch and leer
I must find you again. I am not afraid
I am not afraid of anything.

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