{Note 2.: If you wish to see this blog through my eyes. install fonts - Ardenwood and Sylfaen.}
I am Dennis. There is nothing else you would ever want to know about me. Thanks for reading.
From my friends Crimson Dead
Text with 2 notes
Tragedy
How am I to tell you what’s wrong?
My words won’t stay,
they’d rather be astray amidst a maelstrom of gibberish.
A thought lost somewhere,
cannot hold on to what lies ahead.
Too blind.
Too drunk.
In too much pain.
Oh the disdain! This soul feels.
Does it feel?
The falling rain, of your neighbor’s piss.
Killing foliage and house rats.
Pests you’d rather never see again.
Something that relates to amnesia.
To insomnia.
Uncertainty, going astray.
Impossible.
Believe.
In what I can do.
To eviscerate, to annihilate all opposition.
In the watering hole of our choosing.
Where beggars beg.
For food, for water.
Arrogance.
Dictated on the faces of millions.
Hiding insecurities.
Edifying lies.
Pity.
Volcanic eruption.
Harmless.
But today my words won’t stay.
To make sense.
Conveyance dwindles.
Contemplation.
Derivation.
Tragedy.
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