Synaptic Fire

The amber twitch slipped
the noose another inch
around the soul of the
black hole - drowning out
the seams of my dreams
now adrift in the opaque
glass desert of surreality.
The dunes mocking duality
of expression convey my
dismay of frustration.

The sun at its peak leaves
no impression, yet I would
just have to speak
before setting.

Stars anchored in time
are seen through a
corrupt prism shrine.
Imprisoning the meek in
placid self-loathing
mistique.

Justice has fragmented
under gravities tear,
now lusting with flare,
it is chemically impaired
and running scared,
overwhelmed
and laid bare.

Torture throughout the
trenches...red stained
benches prop up those
gaseous balloons of
electrified stenches.

Lightning strikes invigorate
the soul momentarily before
the haunting reverberations
of a thunderous roar rumbles
deep down in the anotomicol
core.

Denial spreads the fear
of commitment. Freedom within
the confides of the horizon
leave options too numerous
to comprehend yet limit our
understanding, inducing
unchecked psychosis.

Barriers of thought restrict
our movements which sooth
and comfort us from the barren
reality that a terrifying
infinity of interactivity
controlled by a deity
who judges indifferently
awaits you.

And by pure will we can choose
to breakdown those self imposed
barriers, to touch the nerve
on which spirituality resides
and find solace in natures
design, if not devine, then
concur its sublime incantations
of structure are a chaotic
fractal of splender that is
self-aware in its relative
spatial arrangements formed
through an actively
sadistic ballistic affair
of unending cycles,
interpetations
and representation.

Appearances change but the
beautiful truth is inescapable
- we are the universe observing
itself reshaping itself
over and over.