

Two-Tone Sketches For The LostTwo-Tone Sketches For The LostTwo-Tone Sketches For The Lost
Introverted progression Harvesting the lack of distilled horrors From this and that and back to the question That is depraved of an answer Even for those brave enough to be its explorers
Extroverted conclusions Setting standards I do not care to meet The hopes and wonders and other illusions Wandering across mindless bridges While the broken chains scrape their feet
Shifty eyes shaping our world Unbreakable sensitivity Around which our fingers curled
And dont dare touch the china Worthlessl


The High Road To ArtThe High Road To ArtThe High Road To Art
A crack on charcoal fields The volcano eyelids erupt Into a miraculous display Of dew drops and blood canals The fading so abrupt
Tender shells lie in the wake Caressing the screams With ever glowing glory Shimmering like autumn stars Beckoning the fiery streams
And oh how wondrous it is
To witness the blooming of flesh On black, on red
Hanging off the near dead A colony of chaos that in the end seems to mesh
To so vividly remember Your sudden loss of gravity
With lead dril


Cold Whispers Of The Corpse-Cold Whispers Of The Corpse In Your HeartCold Whispers Of The Corpse-
Whisk me away From the clouds of grey The winds that betray The darkness of day
Before its too late Alter my fate Of biting the bait And succumbing to hate
Alone, I am but one With you, I am just two Put two and two together though Then there is nothing to pursue
All greed is gone All loathing withdrawn My sorrow forsaken And our love awakens
(Love never sleeps)
But is it passion for the sake of passion?
Tell me again that you love me


Tripping Over Your FeetTripping Over Your FeetTripping Over Your Feet
Chapter 1: Erasing the Chalk Lines
Its the first step of a wanderers journey That finds its place in wet cement The second and onward are what reach The depths of the sand
And no matter what shoe you wear No matter what sole you bear The print will always remind you Of the significance of taking each step As another chapter, to follow through
Also that concrete or not It can be erased Once the last grain of sand has found its spot The past will not be traced Unless of course With much
--
Art is much less important than life, but what a poor life without it.
-Robert Motherwell
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