In desperation I have tried to glide -
but my wings have withered and died
like those green leaves which have dried
from winter winds into pale brittle paper
I have indulged myself in much degeneration -
and decadence.
No more than a simple drop of blood as ink
can be used to write my tales of bliss.
And like a wretched mongrel -
scabbed, wounded and dirty
under today's black print
grounded, I await tomorrow's sorrowful morn
as distinct apparitions pass by
and puffs of stale tobacco smoke -
breach my nostrils and smother my existence.
Even dreams have become weary
and I've walked the path of ruin and stand
At the very hem of re-birth.
But only for a few fleeting moments . . .
- Aman
______________*Come to send
Not condescend
Transcendental consequence
Is to transcend, where we are
Who are we?
Who we are
Trampled moss on your souls
Changes all, you're a part
Seen it all, not at all
Can't defend, fuck the man
Take me for a ride, before we leave
Circumstance
Clappin' hands
Guidin' winds
Happenstance
Off the track, in the mud
That's the moss in the aforementioned verse
Just a little time, before we leave
Stop light plays its part
So I would say you've got a heart
What's your part?
Who you are
You are who, who you are*
*cf: Pearl Jam - Who You Are
Interested to see if anyone follows the poem and the referenced song below it - thoughts?
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