You live in absolutes,
but the only absolute
you deny is
being.
The
eclipse
crown.
Wear it well
in the history's
wheel
that sits up
in your
skull.
The twilight is your
kingdom come undone.
Lives, and breathes you in...
a book, of me and you?
Spelled out in mystery
twists and turns,
to recreate a new world,
in the skills of banishment.
I'll crown your life in the inside of me.
As redundancies and abhorrence.
Snafu on every sentiment.
You hold responsibility for
no one and you always require
that others take on
your tribute.
My ravens are always with you.
To guide post every dark feeling into a certain attitude.
You waste time and you still point at the time with the same determination.
That I'll eclipse everything you do.
I'll outshine you!
In your fallen world.
I'll outshine you,
to overcome your
dark dawns and become
you and
force the crown.
You are blind, from
a dark crown walk
forever if you must.
You, eclipse, you.
As the ghost of this world.
Wear the eclipse of the Sun and moon
the crown of the world.
That is, a taking of you
for me to be powerful
but if the prey realize
the predator dies without him.
He goes and finds the strength
in the lack of presence in their
servitude.
To see the death of the king.
Wear the crown.
That best suites
the card of your choosing.
To fit the situation
of your biding.
Every decision was made in advance.
As in your life, is literally, a game of
chess.
The crown must be summoned again!
I'll blacken your sheep if you eat
the way the word is...
and the word is good, or at least to those
benefit.
So I'll go on living on a cloud or in
your face.
Eclipse the day.
The crown in this requiem of dreams.
The crown is with you.
In spirit, and in mind.
The presence of you lost in this maze.
Can the way come, in the ordinary of circumstance?
Or eclipse crown takes on a new form of divinity's
last peg.
The eclipse crown, is in many ways
your own dark royalty,
in this dark pageantry
of the blood coursing
inside.
What binds us
is what we feel
not what we
bleed.
The flower eternal
in the crimson field
where the scarlet
hearts burn.
Burning in the outfitted fast
four-ward.
That outshines.
It's own hysteria.
The eclipse crown
can bring about
the end of the beginning
of ends.
- Author: ReflectionShadow (Pseudonym) ( Offline)
- Published: January 31st, 2018 08:22
- Category: Fantasy
- Views: 40
- Users favorite of this poem: Noah
Comments2
Really neat, and I love the words you use and the image they paint.
Great write
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