A sleeping silence, seeping from a place
Too close to where life is born,
Where rebirth spoke to renew,
Innocence only owls knew
Daring to whim, void to our very own
Metacognicious hive, imposing and questioning
How well can you hold your own head
When the stars are ominous tonight?
Begotten by miscommunication
Atrophying
Heartfelt
Context
One's love
Phantomed by the sun
Now hated by our ghosts,
For ghosts are what we made them,
Now hated by our ghosts,
The sleep that we forbade them
None could see what now made unscare,
Only winters sky to take one there,
Mass left out in rain and time,
To dance, to drug, to dry sublime,
And to teach what one was never taught,
The adherent to ones distraught,
Has the loopholes a lawyer could pluck with his teeth
Meaning is not the name of the game one plays,
While crawling through broken glass
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