The Saint Symphonic Streets

Where are we now ?

Monday, May 07, 2007

I dissapear

Autofocus, spots and smears
Alleviate my pain, my fears
If I stay in a blur to clear

At least I stay a blur
Which Is all I've ever wanted

The Closing of senility
With the rise of dawn
Closing in on light

is the hardest thing I've ever done

I'm hanging by a thread
a scissor snip away from

And once I drop
I don't have to hope again

In any drop there is
the finality of contact

A closure of grand proportions

were I will never have to think
or feel

were I can wallow in nothingness
and drop from perception
drop from existence

and dissapear

I hope not for black
I hope for white

for never ending brightness

where I will be in awe


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