Psyke.org

Sundog

Sworn Enemy

Copyright, Sundog

Deep within the belly of the sound it chokes,
play with the persistany pollygraph of rendering sanity and you shall see bordem,
for slide shows write the same fragments over and over again.

did it go?
the fly from under the wing of the sleeping questionmark,
i couldnt care less was the reply from the insashable hell rised crucifix of a man we were braught up to slowly hate.

Music drifting over the pages of carpet that holds the dust that falls apon sleeping bodys in a paper home… cold?
get under the sheets and into the arms of another universe.

Thrust yourself apon the opportunity to live married and the law spits on you,
fuck politics, they’re superficial superimposed and out rated,
the time for us is now!
we the people must rise up out of our comfie warm beds.

open your mouth and let the words bite untill all thats left is a bloody mess in which will spring a flower,
to start again,

we are our sworn enemey the human race,
become better.

Untrained Mind

Copyright, Sundog

Rewrite the interview,
look deep into my eyes,
cut the vines that bound you,
plastic sheets of insane lies,
dip the flower in candel wax,
it may still not last for all time,
although the sun fades to the west,
the waters will always rise.

numbers can be broken in fours,
a cloud does not last for long,
plexiglass walls can not hide silk moths,
the apple does fall.

In between seasons of electric energy,
over the broken sky,
the souls of your shoes still wear thin,
taste the sweetness of lemon pie.

So the universe can spin in a marball,
scars sting and burn,
shadows can not be friends,
like sandpaper is rough,
untie your bows,
fold them around the tree,
smell the jasmin,
it doesnt only drift in the breeze.

Twisted Tale

Copyright, Sundog

twisted tales of a tainted mind,
still want to be a small girl,
incandecent innocence long since lost,
black sorrow not wanted, alas it does not leave.
i want to be happier,
inside the darkened me,
will i always have a cold shadow?

blood stained batteries,
for a diskman that doesn’t work,
imagine the horror, imagine the pain?
everyone can think the way they dont know,
none can say face,
they are not the diskman nor the blood stain.

 

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