Past the sizziling Radon of the Gorgon's fossilised stare
Reflected in the glassy, stupified eyes of the winged mare
Into the lands that are imagined and created, somewhere over there
Look down below, at the psycadelic colours of the crazy funfair
Helter Skelter, into the slease of the sharp baseness, the domain
Wipe the blood of the aggressors and all of the dragons you have slain
Imagine the cultural lepers and the impaled writhing, in tortured pain
Wander and influence all you meet, in the restraints of the planet's insane
Roll the dice, and try to change the random pattern of the known genes
Mutate your features and end up a creation of the imagination, it seems
Make your playground the innermost desires of the secret mortal's dreams
Appear in inspiration as a hero, in the welcomed, warming rays of the sunbeams
Come down to earth in the desert by the river to Ezekial, in all your might
Become a mystic of the followers and the purveyor of hope, expressed in second sight
Also, a director of the Spanish Inquisition and all the killing's of men in blight
Pain and Love that does co-exist in a balance of Life, that does not appear right
The ying and all that is twixt, the Masonic divider of bloody yang
All the sounds of the snapping, the saliva, and the esoteric, silvered fang
The twisted and desperate contortions of the slow execution, of the non-drop hang
Listen to the angellic harbingers of the hidden messages, that were a hunger pang
The only hero left in a very desolate and steaming entrailed battlefield
Take up thy sword, and take up your magikal and silver reflected shield
No more foes or challenges to defeat and no more enemies that have to yield
Surround yourself again, in self isolation, in your uninspiring and lonely forcefield
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Man, this is so deep and its got so many words I never heard of exsept in the Bible, its sure a great peice of writing anf you gotta clap it, yea!
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Great
Wow! such great use of words. It was a little hard for me to follow though, because I can be slow.
This part really reminds me of a grandfather's story:
The only hero left in a very desolate and steaming entrailed battlefield
Take up thy sword, and take up your magikal and silver reflected shield
No more foes or challenges to defeat and no more enemies that have to yield
Surround yourself again, in self isolation, in your uninspiring and lonely forcefield
I love how there is history involved... -
I must admit to having a hard time following this. I am assuming this is almost like a game of modern fantasy where you can become anyone that ever will be...or anyone that ever was [or maybe a combination of both] It is definitely out of the norm [hence me not being able to follow it]. It has absolutely nothing to do with your writing....it is strictly me. And being that I really do not understand it I will leave the critiquing to those that do understand
respectfully,
reenie
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interesting imagery
and anyone who uses the word "twixt" is cool
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