Hands have been shaky, knees have been weak, it's the same day in and out until I find my way out, to escape this part of my life makes me think, this road I travel is far less shallow, should I ever encourage the demons deluded thoughts, I'd have to rewrite history out of fear for mystery.
But it's hard to come down the path of the past, when history is full of disappointment, for the future holds no script. Wisdom and logic precursors history, no time to rehearse the words, the future is here right now, it's one breath away, one step ahead, but don't hold dread.
This world is an audience waiting to be shown, a primitive notion from the stone masons coldren, fabrication of memories that never existed, makes the primitive brain place together perceived decelerations of war, for this I choose to ignore.
For it was once a wise man, tribal like and admired by some, on closer inspection nowhere near as fun. Deluded thoughts flood the perceptions of the primates mind. Primitive enough to self reflect on a desired divinity, easily led astray whilst covering up deep internal decay.
For even an uneducated novice can clearly see, there's a wave of discontent and prejudice flowing free. But I confess at my own behest, it wasn't me at my very best. In saying that I too was a mess, I did best with what I had within reach, preferred to withhold sound, because I'd have forever drowned. Forever lost in the thickness of somg, toxic waves of analogue.
©thegizz211
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