SimonTrust's profile

As we stand on the brink of machines and soundless valleys The clouds and heavens swing low to hells and horizons, This crashing sky and loss of gravity seems endless And still we slosh on. Forever forward going nowhere. Surrounded by androids with human parts and giant creatures, Whose shadows cast night upon the disfigured landscape, We make no noise and show none but lethargy And behold the brass gate and jaws of self-destruction. The oceans swell and swallow those planted in the mud And ...

Sweetly set on the far off shore Against the grain and playfully inspiring monsters To and fro, the sensitive sway Behind the mystery is the art that’s means so much. It’s not about balance Or even knowing anything for sure But more a sensitive instinct And strong front That guides the voice and body back home. There’s always a dark fog, You know what’s life without it? Even the evil, dark shapes eventually come to light And drown out into color And need. Frailty is...

  If anything, I think all my questions stem from my own need to just be brave.      Somehow, this is all beyond us. It sits in some distant horizon just over and passed the glowing, unearthly realm of postulation and truth. There, in some maze of dead ends and cultism, it waits. Very calm, it barely moves and throughout the current of time as you hopelessly weave toward it, it begins to reach out to you. Even you, whom probably will not see this coming, subconsciou...

No convalescence Only rain, parted sunlight. Daydreams and nightmares. In this albatross, Swirling design, contrition. Force this down my way. Seven steps, seven crooked None are perfect today, mean. Under no lights now. Poetry is false. The scribbles are unfocused, kid. This is my epitaph.  

Sweet Hate and Damnation: Simon Trust Chapter 0: Some people believe that life is made in some small hours of happiness and love. They believe that somehow, even though the rest of the world seems dark and horrible, these moments define everything that the human spirit is and ever will be. Time itself unravels during these moments bringing those fortunate enough to experience them into a living dream that you feel you will never wake up from. Nothing can penetrate the purity of these hours a...