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Refining Angels

We are all angels of eternity
with the temporary gift
of limited perception.

As our illusions of reality slip,
we find fleeting comfort
in merging reality with forever.

Retaining the animal within
to refine the exaltation.

Yearning for all
that comes before a self attained.

Juxtaposed past and future,
centering the moment.
A reaper of the days ahead
and a promise of awareness
being constantly slain.

Wading Through New Worlds

Life persists through whatever form.
Consciousness evolves into a unity of forever.

The pain of the day is a burden we must carry
for as long as we choose.
We are defining something we are not yet aware of,
A liberation we are not yet aware of.

But we evolve in spirit and bind in material,
obsessed in material
and progress in psyche.

Evolution of consciousness
and a continuous search of definitive finite laws

wading through new worlds of pain
and countered by new persevering love.

Fighting the "Survival Mechanism"

We thicken our skulls to survive
and the evolution is messy

We Leap
we bound
when we believe the time is right
in a way
a contradictory survival of change

Breaking barriers of prosaic
so dear to our skeptical hearts
scared in detainment

consciousness dulls down
infinity
Finite survival in mass dose

Our addictions are our survival
for a moment
but if we don't loosen our grip
of so much slavery
we find the drone
of a meaningless roam

and our forest closes
into such tortured shelter

Endless Pardons

The way that once was
and the endless pardons
given by vain hands.

Hands that only wanted
what was best
in the beginning,
must separate from us.
We must separate from them.

True life beats in the making
of us all.
We must grip that making
at some point
and feed ourselves,
believe ourselves
in dangerous times.

Because these chances at growth
are not prepared for all.
Making so sad a loosening grip
and such everlasting height
for those who stand tall.

Degree of Enlightenment

There is an Enlightenment,
to a degree,
for every such suffering man.

As Individuals
and as a whole,
we search...

We all find ourselves
in a metaphorical chapter of life
and yearn for a counterpoint.

Letting the entropy of self
destroy major fragments of our character,
our complexion.

The quality of survival,
that,
if given the opportunity
of proper framing
can reveal every possibility
of obtaining true life.

A Once Brisk Touch

The pebble which turns its side in my pocket
suffices
for memories
for dreams of ghosts

It holds nothing beyond me
a host
to burden upon
to deli ever upon
a meaning so bold

I crave upon it with my finger tips...

I lay victim no more
to the sore heat within thought
the sore heat that was once mine
and mine alone

I flow victoriously
I churn and churn some more
your heat will become my heat
your heat with beat immensely
as mine

Your body is no longer
as brisk as the want
the want and the crave
the wait
and the anticipation

I savour your whole touch
and the eyes
which gaze fiercely through mine...

The Endless Definitive Dance of Self

The emotional ties that bind us all may stretch our terror into deep endless nightmares into our waking day.
Not all sorrow can be a starting point, but pain is a necessary corrosive.
The endless embroider of justifiable pain zigzags and dances in our minds and reflects in our eyes.
We shed tears for whatever reasons we need.
We will live in silhouettes and reflect in a presence that reaches for an unobtainable future, forgetting our present awareness.
Dissecting a living law to better or worsen ourselves.
We are a lost cause in our forever reminiscing.
Look forward at large.
Leap Large.
Be brave in persistent replication of shattered fragments of who you really are.
Breaking cycle after cycle in your new persevering endless definitive dance.

Forming Affection

i continue the dance,
the accelerating,
mushrooming,
proliferating dance
of eternal recovery.

I shake with levity
as I crush the ogre within.

Victory of self comes every minute,
of every day
for my conscious being...I am AWARE!!

Fortunate clarity pierces
outside turmoil
from the deepening balance within.

Patient strides of self
no longer seeks and unobtainable "love"
but forms it through others
with an imperishable outreached hand....

Whitewashed Insecurities

Insecurities,
Your influence tortures me daily. You have been with me since erstwhile reminiscing awareness will allow.
You have encouraged my vain will to evolve into such a cacodemonic diabolical creature.
I have been procrastinating a true stand against you.
The pity fuel you gave me to enhance the deformity of self to continue on in defect of character.
Your whitewash condoning helped me present a vague interpretation of self for me and others.
You are a menace I grew affection for.
But this new nudge of self is becoming your antithesis.
Now you are going to feel the shock of terror because I am quickly stripping you naked for your final exposure.
You will never leave me completely if I do not arrest you completely...now.
I have paid you homage for entirely to long.
Adieu and Godspeed to your craving dis function.
I must now live without your distortions.
You will never be my false ally again...

Deceit

The deceit we play on ourselves
and others is a complicated web
of delusion
Instigated by courageous
but sometimes unwise intentions.

Scenarios can be justified
but crumble with the ever present reality
ever progressing reality

We all come to a united truth
eventually
but the infinite paths
and possibilities we pursue
will lead to a finite flow
eventually

We mask ourselves
until we hear
the individual
personal prophecy

But we all will be unmasked
eventually

Sway of Things

Independence of self is a deceptive concept
that may bring on thequalities of isolation.

Desolation is addictive and justifiable,
Pride helping the cause in vain
and soon you find despair.

The battle for control
reveals itself as the illusion.

The sway of things,
controdictory to explaination,
rational.

This energy lies underneath
waiting as the antithese to your aspiring
self destruction






The other side of clarity...

In your search for the fate of you
remember the despair in between
and remind yourself that anything can
be justified.

Not everything can be felt
and not everything
is acceptable in denial.

But I promise you
you are capable of bringing on
unrecognizable agony
manifested in undisciplined will.

Will is given to you,
it is apart of something big an capable,
yet something simple and uncomplicated,
something that will crush your given
gift of will if abused.

Process of Illumination

So...you still return to the methodical dance of the miser...
your bourgeois, banal, saturated guise...the world can see you...
and there eyes are fixed.

We must be tactful in our evolution of illusion and crack sinister smirks
and high maniacal laughter at all possible turns.

We need our illusions, delusions, our apparitions of foggy interpretation
so that we may clear a path to the disencumbered forest.

The reality for a nation...
and reality for the personal is at the edge
and at the heart of insanities perspective...

Tyranny needs an un evolved democratic mind set
as a platform for a true rampage...
stay aware in progression...

First,
you must hear the music that is currently at sound,
first you must dismantle the mind,
to reconstruct how you see fit...haHA!!!!

True Prophecy

Progression in its purest
possible form is contrast,
against the grain.

Great barrier breakers realize
the containing collective conscious
and pound at the door of wasteful engagement
and illusionary containment.

These giants
push for the forever future
ever protruding
through the triad of time,
merging,
bringing true prophecy into light
for fulfillment...

Survival of the Will

Before the promise of a better life sustained,
The survival of the fittest was the only illuminating
scheme...
Ancestral blame,
Instinct,
gives us a retro eye for a mapped out
primal understanding.

Our natural Socrates
explores to collect these puzzle pieces of perception,
feeding our necissary evolving illusion.

The malubility,
our minds naturally made containment,
our will fullfilling all those wishes believed...