Gino

Inside a Desecrated World

Sojourning in an insanity

inside a desecrated world,

Hording on the unraveling truth that never satisfies,

to only offer us a glimpse

of what we truly we will never have...

 

...Death is creepy,

for it sheds our innocence

and shields us from the light of deliverance,

that veils our imperfections

in a delight of summer that never shades...

 

Perfection is attainable in the air,

for our dreams are vexed, and hoisted

on a purge of madness that reigns in a wonton of guilt,

but never soothes and leaves us betrayed,

as the world caresses our never ending dissatisfaction

on a fantasy of dreams

 

Worlds collide on a panel of unison,

as the gallows swirl upside down

inside a maze of judgment,

that condemns on a whirl of contempt,

delving into a labyrinth of sin,

and glooms on the absolute doom that follows

 

Love fails to intercede in between the hours,

as displaced citizens run a mock on a carnage of horrors;

for sorrows eager to borrow on the Eye of Horus

that forsakes all epiphany in an hourglass of time