'Tis I, the master
The mistress
Thy savior
Thy slave
Under the chocolate covered walls
Where I am imprisoned underneath my hours
When my eyes should be chained down
But beneath the lampshade
I rest none
I rest late
And maneuver my sly tool to it's shy companion
Ripped from nature's best
Nature's soul
And trapped in those packages of which we tear open
And maneuver our sly tools to it's shy surface
For every curve, it makes itself anew
When it brings itself against the penciled lines
It forms that heavenly shape
That recognizable shape
And a face is born
Its complexion upon the mild artificial light
This is not an artificial piece
Artificial talent
Accommodated with the artificial heart
Nonsense!
I'm all there is real
Under the night's lampshade
My light has meddled
My eye is blind from error
My hand is uncoordinated
Sly tool worn away
And at the moment I wish I had artificial talent
To back up the void.
'Tis my turn to rest
And my resting is late
'Tis my time to chain my eyes
And reminiscence of the memories
Of which will have tears through the locked chains
Of which will have giggles through the should-be shut lips
Breaking the silence within the chocolate walls
And renewing itself again
And again
After each interruption
Each distraction
Inner applaud
You fraud
I shall behead thee of such trespassing
Halt!
Your dreams at an ease
Control yourself lad
And stop talking like that.
Bewilder yourself upon the lampshade
Mind once set
With each thought attacking the mind
The inner excellence
Regret and stupidity enclosed and always forgotten
Not having the chance to rewind to the thought
And continue to a new
Remember your people
Remember their words.
You don't have to use big words to win people's hearts~
I agree
But I do not apply
What is your reason~
I don't know
But I fake an answer
How is you 45 year old cat~
Fine, thank you.
Though I don't recall such a cat.
PALABISH!
BISHBRIEL!
No, I don't have a ringworm! I looked up the symptoms!
Ninjas?
Lawsuit?
GASP, GASP
And laughter the following
The giggles fade
Into the imagery of such silly wants
Silly needs
Silly amusement
Interruption
From the applaud
You fraud!
I shall behead thee of such trespassing!
Halt!
Spat on thee, that old senile pencil
Waving against your wet face
Shut down the device
It's system is heating up
Whip away those clouds, please?
It's hard for me to say
PALABISH
BISHBRIEL
Have you no manners?
Come forth, I beckon, to the same light that guides you awake
And it soon fades off into the dark
As I climb down to turn off the lampshade
And half of the process resets.
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