The epic, fancy free from introspection unde
rlying dream, untouched by life and all its constant sundry imperfection - the voiceless
note which sounds without a fife in flight profound, subconscious
free from fear, traversing and transcending crass, mundane the artfacts and artifice of here
the avarice antagonist of pain
a world which can contain it, deathless, still retreating from this world it isnt of. A sculpted god can
t know of friendships thrill and spill - it nothing knows the pull of love
. Of whim composed, perfection one cant feel and cant give the rewards of somet
hing real.
ar
o
d
ar
ar
ar
ar
ar
love
The world you choose to live in - your selection,
free to pick a system bursting rife with forms with which you
ll never know connection,
wounds you cant inflict with dreamings knife
Why choose a world refusing to appear?
With interaction thus, youll go insane
with understimulation, whereby near
and all around a world is granted, plain,
but simpleness wont make a man go ill
so long as he can dream of things above
a world of function, cool and without frill.
And yet our world contains both rose and dove -
these symbols links to worlds beyond ideal.
These cherished grains of sentiment we steal.
artwork by argon
poetry by cthulu