-Rhythm Without Rhyme-
Updated on March 16, 2011
My thoughts are fragmenting
Shattering into abstract art
I control these words,
which flow,
at my bidding,
they kneel to their master,
submit to his will,
submit to me,
this is not poetic,
this is not beautiful,
this is a rhythm,
without rhyme,
with melodic background,
powerful,
lacking in yawning,
waxing and waning,
overflowing with life,
inspiring unknown results,
only time can tell,
where I will lead them,
which path,
they will follow,
to which destination…
I was born of Osiris,
into two worlds,
designed for,
separate purposes,
we are falling,
into the circles,
the smallest pieces,
are taking shape,
taking charge,
forming anew,
creation,
by my hands…
This is what it’s like,
inside my head,
behind my walls,
this is a collective,
of confusion,
refusing conformity,
insisting on completion,
expression,
and questions,
followed by answers,
in the form of questions,
beginning a cycle,
beginning an end,
ending in awe,
awing the ignorant,
ignoring their gaze,
gazing upon the sun…
These are the hours,
between day and night,
these are the feelings,
felt alone,
unseen,
without witness,
thus getting away,
with murder,
escaping,
into the night,
which is approaching,
the day…
Do you want,
to understand me?
That would imply,
that I understand,
myself …
… beyond,
the circulation,
of free roam,
within the walls,
of a cage,
of a brain,
of a body,
of a pawn,
a slave,
a sheep,
which becomes,
the wolf’s,
worst fear…
I’m still writing,
but are you,
still reading?
Let’s test,
your resolve,
to withstand,
this onslaught,
of muddled thought,
from my self,
to your own self,
passing through,
barriers,
which never served,
any purpose,
anyway,
did they?
I’m speaking
To myself…
Transmission,
Terminated…
© copyright BenD.A 2011