SPINAL contusions upon final conclusions and delusions of sorrow that are rich and aged, if IM in reclusion i avoid confusion in seclusion from 2morrow inside of a cage, i stretch and reach across chasms of the deep, spinning a web of deceit and speechless rage, these moments are BEAUTIFUL but every moment seems 2 quickly fade, no sound can be heard that has not at some point already been played, no words can ever be spoken which have not been heard a thousand times, disturbed and broken, i have sought and urged to silence all the sounds of'life's design, bound and confined, im caught by my nerves and split wide open for the world to define, this is my heart, here lies my soul and over there.... are the remnants of what was once my mind, i march across masses of the broken hearted while looking up into the sky, i start but my heart beat crashes and breaks open exposing oceans of the departed seen somewhere inside, my soul grows old and bitter cold with each new day that arrives, help me before my spirit caves in2 the grave and my body dies, a thousand voices screaming and dreaming of ways to somehow say goodbye, NOW is the time to cry, mourn for me my delicate ones, let rivers pour from your core and suddenly spillout from your eyes, i only want to speak...simply so that i could be heard, i only wish to shake the very earth with my every word, dellusioned and disturbed, some would say im somewhat twisted, my brain shifts and strains to change frames from insane to gifted, but i suppose its all absurd.......and emotionally explicit, life is a series of sumptuous shades cast across a moonlit stage for those who choose to see, some are blind, some are kind, some are warm and loving to varying degrees, others are cold and cruel, while some are simply spiritually diseased, i search the earth to quench my thirst and become appeased, never satisfied......sated or pleased, i stop in thought to rot in intellectual plots and become caught ina burning hot breeze, think nothing of it, other than how it ends and however you decide to leave, existence is a fleeting cascade of fulgid fragments falling and fading into a stagnant silent endless horrendous sea, now i can rest, decompress, digest the depths and disect whats left beneath, marching across masses of the broken hearted...i stretch and reach. -L. Thor Pedersen


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