Floating

Web blackness in a sin of the night flowing

As the voices speak in my mind

The turning of their heads plunge in obscurity

Chaste visions of death and disparity 

Hang from the circle of my auxiliary

Mills ford the perception of our creation

Everlasting debt to the spoken word of pigments 

Floating upon electric nightmares with a tablet for dawn

And watch the saber pierce my eyes

Loving necromancer with an aerosol delight

Loving little Scorpio stabbing at the night

Anchors fall into my manifesto of dreams and lucidity

Pawns reign high in the rain for my screams and futility 

And so we'll march to the cerebellum

Running from myself, running from themselves

Tilting the words that oppress me

Reviews

[Red3Bravo]

Some cool phrases. Captures a feeling of hidden meanings, of ideas at the tip of your tongue. I love how it approaches coherence only to turn on a single word and shy away. The blending of medieval imagery with modern imagery made me think of treatment tangled with madness so that what should heal becomes torture.I like that.

[Tamika Finley]

I enjoyed this piece because I interpreted it as someone running from their thoughts, which is so common and relatable