Red cloth hidden beneath
the carpet of black noise.
Noise that echoes nothing else
but the songs of silence.
Silence that speaks a thousand words
of lies camouflaged as truth.
Truth that eyes see but accept
only the images of the mind.
Mind that conjures up a world
that is slaved to perception.
Perception corrupted by experiences
that ages of masking teaches life.
Life that threatens extinction of soul
lost to the veils of man's lust.
Lust that grows to an obsession
deriving pleasure out of your dead skin.
Skin that hides itself from the chill
from which saved me my white cloth.
Cloth that you snatched away and stained
with the red blood of my being.
Being that now in vain cries
"Give my white cloth back"
2 comments:
Mind that conjures up a world
that is slaved to perception. This is an interesting statement. But tell me, who is supposed to redeem one's sins? All the warriors.... what exactly are they reclaiming? What have they lost? Somebody "corrupted" their dream? Why did the warriors let it happen? You say, "Give it back to me" but then why did you lose it in the first place?
A question for the Author of Frozen Feelings: What fuels a mind? And since I wont be on gmail, please answer me on www.themysticsdream.wordpress.com
Post a Comment