Fading Machine

August 25, 2017
By AllenAvanesian SILVER, Montrose, California
AllenAvanesian SILVER, Montrose, California
7 articles 0 photos 0 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Your heart's desire is to be told some mystery. The mystery is that there is no mystery." —Cormac McCarthy


Great waves on the subtle ocean
Calm on the praire tide
Newfoundland in the dusk
I don't know what's happening
Everything in my head
Driving up the futile road
Into the eye of the storm
A black face, his eyes shut
Pupils lit up white
And though I'm dreaming it
Thoughts consumed by one thing
My mind will never turn off
An android at conception
Soon I will be overcome
I will split at the section
Drifting apart in two
Half in the world
And half is not
That half swimming about
In the lowest darkest currents
Of what I really am
Just a shot up in the rain
Run of the mill
Nothing as can be
Ragged half-breathing something
Contraption wound at birth
Tossed out into the storm
To live mechanically
Until the spinner stops
Until I run out of air
Until I cease
So I fade into the grove of trees and keep living
I crawl behind those leaves who are still listening
I form part of that wave which is still curling
I am nothing, if only unfurling



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