Existential

May 27, 2008
By
The world spins upon its foreign axis
I sit and try to muster a purpose.
I tremble within a darkened room,
Illuminated by the shadows of unknown creatures
That prey upon its walls,
Slither together, become tangled
And spin into an alien world.
I sit and scribble random words,
Searching for sense in entropy.
Yet I grasp little
And I stare into the darkness,
One eyelid slowly closing.
The wind rattles through the walls,
Yet the shadows collide
Unfettered by a hollow chill
Of darkened embers.
The meek moon drips through the windows,
And the shadows slowly glow brilliantly
Fierce in its poisonous light
Of bewitched clarity.
I sit and shiver.
The wind whispers in my ears
And the moon slips me strength.
I stand stiff in the alien world
Ready to destroy its darkness.





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