Grown
Within
my broken mind comes a broken lyric,
As an ocean of rubbish drowns out the pathetic.
My previous life::whatever that was::is no longer.
Your vine of intelligence withered long ago.
My my, how you have grown…
You
nearly escaped the wasps which surrounded you::nearly.
The helter-skelter thoughts tunneling through your proud lips.
You are powerless against the darkness,
And yet, how can your knees bend so far?
My my, how you have grown…
Such
a burden you are, you fucking fool!
While I hide (brooding) in my crevice,
The WORLD scurries towards (wanting?) its inevitable demise,
I shall project my own illusions into your mind.
My my, how you have grown…
Your
own beliefs::partitioned by omnipresent anxiety::
Are mere asymptotes teetering on the ledge of insignificance,
(Of which you are no benign interloper).
Through my eyes you see your own death.
My my, how you have grown...
You
are but a molestation of a pubescent concept,
Should you care to know your irrelevance...
A virtual Hiroshima – a virtual image blur.
From the FALLen leaves comes your incense.
My my, how you have grown...
{how
i feel for you
[how i pity you
]}
© 1996-2001 by Joel Mathew Hegberg