Cold nights like cut stone,
Thoughts more deadly than the sins I atone,
Body simply on loan to my mind,
And my mind is a clear land mass, riddled with land mines,
At the time, I thought it was fine, it’ll just pass with time.
Just trapped, silent partner in this firm, party with all mimes.

Lost in transmission so there is no admission,
No admittance, no pardons nor partitions,
I want no part of the parkour you call life,
Nor the hypocritical war tyrant you call wife.
A wound in the back is the same to the heart,
We all feel the pain, but its start of revelation is the true art,

Society saying its ethnicity that causes me to hope,
So then is it ethnicity that causes people to elope?
Or is it just bad genes that cut seams of bad lineage?
Hierarchy of business no more lenient that religious parentage,
All part of a new order or reorder from a new age,
Since the world is a concert with constant repetition on stage.

My ideas spark to fire I’m a mage, a magician,
Light burns bright despite the blown fuse, I’m an electrician,
Burning down the walls of relativity, sanity and existence,
Love, happiness it’s all relative like that crazy imaginary cousin’s persistence.
All dependent upon one scintilla of a molecular inconsistency,
One unexpected, yet fated phenomenon from which there is no cognitive equivalent. Me.


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