Madman's Scribbles #4

Another unfinished work that I figured I'd share.

Magnanimous dragon Pythagoras animus Dracula galactica  gladiator glacier glamorous nature

Misanthropic illuminati

I feel like I’m holding down the sky sometimes, stars aligned, of clouded memories, like a blue walled cemetery

I feel like I’ve been in this exact moment before, over and over again

I guess that’s just the way it is, for everyone

Indoctrinated hatred, overstated

Devils of humanity, walk this plane with unrestrained insanity

They take all that they can of me, they make me what they have me be,  damaged as they scavenge my mannerisms in my fragile existence

My will walls of solitude are falling down like gravity

I may not be strong in body, but in spirit and mind I’ve got this

They didn’t even take the time to judge me before they passed judgement

I hold out an outstretched hand, and hope for something more

I watch that hand wither into old age decay and death, dissipated breath, and the hand wilts like a bone flower, and the skeleton cries sweltering  sunlight like a cold mountain

But new life syphons and grows floral decoration from my bone aspiration

Evaporating apparition adoration condensates coagulated creation

And my bone hand will grow new life again

I’d rather die screaming than silent, at least this way, people will know that we had been here, rather than never existed

See if you can judge me then, I’ll be expecting that, excitedly

I can hear the engine roar when they hit the speed bump, angrily

Over a fabrication, for my life’s duration, patient for death

What more can I give?

Red irises

Dead viruses

Loud silences

Lead violences

Bled hive orchids

My remains stain vorpal, broken, morbid

Can a dead man walk again?

Did I ever have a friend?

Author's Note

I very seldom reply to reviews, but I promise I read EVERY single one. I look forward to my next review, because it helps me learn. Even if it's just one word, I promise, I will be ecstatic to have the chance to hear what you have to say. Whenever you write something about my poems, or the themes of my poems, or criticize me it is not in vain. I will listen, learn and be thankful.