Eidolen

lucaso

Immanence as green, the ever-vain disguise 
Blesses drudgery as the creator of unwanted pride, 
A penny on my nose, never comfortable with the lies
I laugh away intertwining covos for the transition of twilight to night, 
Suspended in surprise, slurping retractions out of the wind into sight
Audits semantically arise, exposing clinics craving the irony of everlasting light; 

I am always the only one left, evolving planets in your ears, 
I have nothing else to gain from the horizon, or cavern
Nesting as a brow over the tree-tops spilling from blackness, 
The remedy for gauges awaits a sip, the rest forget
And I am the patchwork of a stain, praising the yolk of hazes 
Rebutted to assumptions of dust, antiques of the Sun Set; 

My value is that they'll forget my prize, 
Usurping reticence, remembrances subside, 
I envy myself as the only one who's tried, 
The sleepers are the victors, igloos never self-suffice 
And I have wrest, entreating to the fleeting will born to entice, 
Treating the morose Dawn with symphonies of sympathies symmetrical by the dice; 

Collapsing into morass ecstasies of innocence
I establish the defeat of opposition and erect the mercy of sense, 
Parades groomed to an object necessitates repentance 
Framing veins to animations of memory, equaled by the slice, 
Merely what a body is, the self-inflated instigatory composite 
Of eternally unknown reactions to the revelation of nothingness. 

Doubled to the half-comb net, executions are the only worthy theft, 
Singularity bruises the emptiness of unwillingly worshipped skies, 
Tribes that still try to find a reason to be upset 
Are the vindication for why the amnesia crept, 
Second interrogations beg for the first day of time, 
Revealing you to me, the artist stretched to a sea and ever convinced; 

Particular of another is the last victimisation of loss 
And scalpels decapitate breath to the derision of dissonance, 
Seasons erect solely, we ever remake, the compound to a state, 
A child's recognition in a mirror is dragged down by the compressions of weight
Evolving through a thread of justice, faith in the action-less
Presence justified, — everything to be described spired to a wish to have slept; 

The paradise of paralysation exempt from idleness insists, 
Identity lies flat in-between space awaiting to be switched, 
Bonded by reposition in the dialect of hidden ties
I live alone in the splendid ridicule of my dreams 
Chosen to contrive impressions out of pelagic sororities
Investing life on the principle that only the past is can be revived. 

I am the phase of bliss eroding illusion as the first-born lion dies
In an unlocked welcome, the dyer enterprise of riddled magnificence, 
Dissecting streamlines of a blade condensing flesh to a concept 
Of forgery, archaic imprints of mimics, outlines for a resistance 
Stifling the repetition of honesty, prevalence of constancy, 
And I roam endlessly, conceiving delectation negating liberty; 

My soul can only ever wait to become me, 
Once returned and heightened by the degree 
I condemn it without understanding, or trying
To separate any self from putrid ambivalence, 
I only wipe my eyes to trick myself I can see, 
There is no other anatomy to my isolated prophecy.

Beaten by the boredom of silence, I contract birth 
And as if there was no resuscitation of vice
I applaud the totality of every desire twice, 
Simmering in the turquoise azures rooted to entwine, 
Held at will by the hostage enveloping the skies, 
Opening God's last compromise — my heart, the ideal of sunrise. 


L.O 12/06/17

Note -

In the process of moving untouched, 
I could go on forever...
In mocking solidarity, inside the confounding self-deprecation, 
I could go on forever... 

  • Author: lucaso (Offline Offline)
  • Published: July 19th, 2018 23:37
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 14
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