User Review( votes)
written by: Art Blacktooth
Another trip into the bubbling ether of conscience, a mind-bending toward the fatal scent of freedom. Lest we crash this spiral heart upon rocks stained with sin, we too shall seek the limits of our destiny, a pioneer in the golden depths of courage and light.
To seduce my passion from this colorful prism, a sunset bleeding beyond naked horizons of ice, an ocean melting in the depths of your weeping eyes. I was frozen once, a mindless pagan set adrift, unbound by remorse in a raging symphony of faith. My body was crushed, a feeble horseman buckling under the weight of yesterday, a crumbling rose stolen from a grave filled with promises.
No wiser to the truth, I continue to circle this empty drain, a cliché life spent on bullshit and misery, a trophy smile for friends who sharpen my blade with jealousy. Yes, I am shallow, a dirty thief who plays with money, a scolded dog licking a thousand feral wounds.
When the echoes of math have proven nothing beyond zero, a fleeting shadow will comfort my rage, a surging whistle ignited by grieving atoms. My focus will be infinite, a tender burst of sparks and rapid-fire conviction, a divine hammer left by the hands of God. This is my scripture, a new skin as I enter into wrath, a dense particle set to implode with mercy...
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:
Becoming Wrath is a metaphor for destructive souls. It is the acknowledgment of sinister beings accepting their nature, embracing a downward spiral into absolute ego.