Monday, 12 July 2010

The Creators Moon

Words escape the clutches of the inevitable washing machine of time
In a flash it all fades away
Into nothingness and beyond the surface
rippling along the outer realm layers of illusion imagery
as reality folds over the landscape of ecstasy and amphetamines
The random car errors in my bones provide the insanity rush of an electric fire
The creators mood doesn't always make sense
Pu a treetop in the pond of life and watch it grow
as the creators moon glows.

March 06

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