The path extends, never ends
The mirrored planes taunt
As I stepped into a room of clocks
Their hands perpetually at 2+10.
Enclosed as I was
In maya I crafted
Warped fantasies of kitsune
Frolicking by the koi pond.
Spewing pheromones
And partaking in tentacled terrors
Nary a care about the lustful gazes
Or the crude inquisitors.
Until the star-spangled banner
With their oxymoronic oppressive
Gift of freedom. Accepted with fury
At the sheer audacity of their ignorance.
At the sheer audacity of their ignorance.
But fret not, one day, at the
Pinnacle of the earthly pentacle,
With this new found gift I used against,
No comments:
Post a Comment