Fragments Of A Broken Mind

In the fear of being lost we lose touch with what was real, and by the time we find what is real we lost the fear, and all the imagery that went with the journey to find oneself.

We are all victims hunted by time, like a stalker hunts for pleasure, time mocks us as we cannot see it, and it stares blankly at us, with vigor of a new born baby, as curious as it is innocent.

Lost. Lost in the days of when sense was a worth a damn, and that people were attached to one another, and as time transformed us into casualties to technology, when machinery man once made has now turned on us, and machinery now makes man, like the vomited babies made by cloned genes, and habitually open minded fools that made our destinies end, in times of conquest and betrayal.  

Where the love that was once a fountain, gushing straight up and gravity spreading all around us, now as time has conquered and fought to destroy, it made love loveless, Polluted with cavities, filled with a cork.  Mended with instant gratifications that make love meaningless, the four minute mile, the insecurities mount into a seamless cross-stitch of lament.  A fallen angel has had his wings plucked out and stuffed for the Christmas dinner when the guest of honor is a grey soul.  A vagrant of disease that is spread by literature, by the means to misallocate a message, fumble the signals and lose the sheer beauty of his own denial.  To once realize what his blueprints are and deny his roots, and suffice all that and trudge along, trotting along side his timeline and never to yield to its masterminded scheme.  

Tears of blood ran down the mother Gaia and fell into broken hearted fragments on the stone, cutting her feet as the tears bite into her flesh.  To never heal the scars her sons and daughters have given her.  She gave us the beauty to overcome and the compassion to forgive, but as her blood thickens the fragments become bigger as soon as time is constant, a fragment will piece her heart, and we will scorch the sky, as the air will become as dense as we are willing to forgive ourselves.  Turn to someone you hate and forgive, kiss someone you never would, for it makes no sense to have a whole world, depressed and alone, when everyone needs the same attention, but no one will give it. Attention is all we need, so Give it unrelenting, like a vipers poison, sing to people with love, and infect this whole world into submission.

-2003