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Untitled #4


Line leaked inked surfaces|

Space between the present|

Barred settings set inside oblivion|

Opening salvo moving with dilatory effects|

Results heard from obscure dialects|

Runic text draw displays of foreseen prophecies|

And prophecies conjure text messages shortened for those who dread dialogue|

Lost winds of times bring back storms of cannonade and attached fogged signs|

Songs ring the blaze with glory|

Madness enhanced and manifested inside your story|

Sing the chorus|

Deafening the choir's symphonic notes|

You lull to sleep from dreams of feelings lost on a highway towards bleak|

Of images not drawn rather sewn through sleep|

Stages set in spaces explore unseen|

Lucid bereavement straining and hanging a noose on your life's regalement|
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