2lanecrossroad's profile

Computer screen, from black origin, presents black, though image set to ocean, is shaken. Oh’ just reawaken. Monitor grasps pigments in its silver shining surrounding. Policy, I see, with painless quota. Madness! Appears just one, white scarred clown to weep. Isn’t this to be sheep, Isn’t my duty to guide not weep? Black screen laughs good-night to me like so. like one who would in triumph, in victory! Across room set in black origin Where working is my duty and converse to ...

Wooden Rooftops Welcomed oh berry gatherer, one to deplete some. To rove timeless In frosted isles of gently lathered forests.—in What? Mind pointed out direct to retrieve more. Welcome to my land. Bones ach here, in this place, skin between blood Separate by needles of ice. And rot they will—chisel slowly away in the snow. Welcome, welcome oh gatherer. Join us in ruin. Branches beam lightless with the absence of weight overtop planes where swamps grew. Steal structure left, right...

  Murmur the mirror. Corner of my eyes; in cabin leave here if not be so. Overstay in cabin distanced in Wisconsin. Mirror chant words. Mirror leave far left, distant to west. Corner of wood; grey step stools by dim light. Black not greys, oh, this corner of mine. Murmur the mirror. Destroy him he declines. Of eye of black taste resign left, corner, parallel to mirror; pain. Stay calm, yes I do, but him in cabins mirror! Man that alarms, heightens tensions, alert, spares me all and every...

Green, overhead helicopters rotate along, aqua marine hills reeling— in cyclonic thoughts; where I soar. None but one bears little appeal. Man who implores fatal execution to approach swift also pleads: fight, on which aboard my soul. I beg of you, Oh damn, yes to you; I am still here so take me now! Soon black, deep green cross-stitch hills take fold, blaze and quake along each and every stake, he rests his soul upon. We create space  

Grey, oh burning mirror—retain red glazed eyed man, oh you do so. Self imposed, damn oh this failure, unjust savior you pierce below pale skin. You crawl; grasp bones as I fall—Captive to this tragic song: “Lost in mind, thrusting away whispering— so apparent so— abruptly to ears: How—, oh how has he tragically lost his soul?!” Pale, — like all events before me unveil,—skin strictly bind souls like mine— within walls; shattered glass...