The moon is "God"s incandescent judgemental eye
Peering down making assumtions of white glow wrong
Surrounded by murky grey Scottish clouds that fog its opinion
And looking star bordered upon a dead world

Books over Television
The great climactic decision of 21st centurion
As he closes his eyes in laptop darkness
Waiting for a desktop light to illuminate his blind

Catacombs of soul
The New, Young and Beautiful
Already tainted by the worlds bitter shade
Of a dirtied lampshade in a forgotten teenage room

I love Ledger
I love Winehouse
I love You
Which hurts my soul so

Soul.
A depiction of the true minds eye
Like Gods
Lying and decietful of lifes faked bliss

Keroucian telling of "How great it really is."
Seems blackened and flatenned
In an academic dutiful life
Where routine is everywhere

I want the clear blue skies
In a Thailandish epitome
And the golden tanned torso
Of old greek legend

So long ago now
That bronzed wise stature
Now immortilised in sculpture
And literary scrolls

I need intellectual beings
To have sombre awakenings with
And get inebriated
For the passing of another

BLANK ADOLESCENT WOEFUL CHILD

Death,
The only surity
And comfort
Cradle me in your cloaked arms of Grim