|14.07.18. ForsakenFox 19:13:40|
|Alas, no written shares the vagueness of one's own,|
Reflections and reflecting talks to you alone.
The inner paths forming the network of your choice,
The outer roads not giving much for a rejoice.
Along, across, in any lane, with gain or loss,
Protected, yet obscured, the darkness of white fog,
Another order that you're not meant to oppose
But have a workaround for, still untraced by log,
As cold of the outside there is out there in wait,
Condensing brings to you that veil, dramatic rain,
The core's about to overheat and burn in deep,
Malfunctions happen, and no longer you're asleep.
Give hugs to former vessels, throwing doubt aside,
To bridge the gap with you and them, can't hurt to try.
A dozen, double, triple, watch them all collapse
Until the void is satisfied; you're free to pass.
The change is bouncing in and out of your home stretch,
The pattern leaves no end, just ending to unlatch,
None shall corrupt the balance, only make it sway,
It's all about still being white while feeling grey.
|11.07.18. ForsakenFox 13:06:38|
|We can satisfy requirement,|
We can satisfy demand,
We can satisfy agreement,
We can satisfy oneself.
Satisfaction is elusive,
Yet sacrificial in most,
Satisfaction is abusive,
Until its purpose is lost.
We can satisfy our hunger,
We can satisfy our thirst,
We can satisfy each other!
And it's never gonna hurt.
|05.07.18. ForsakenFox 11:13:25|
|An emergency, signaling backfire of trust,|
An epiphany, mirroring horrids of past,
An accessory, waiting to be recognised,
An apology, if nothing else shall suffice.
It's too late, channel clear, the commercials are here,
Curtains off, smashing screens, blinking off what is dear,
From the holdup to impulse again, back and forth,
Gasped away albeit being choking on your own warmth.
Yet for better or worse, being the many or one,
While the choices and doubts are eternally gone,
With all strings severed cruelly, freedom's still bound,
Ask away and retrace your voice echo around.
Oh well, and oh dear, end's breathtakingly near,
This claustrophobic room isn't a place of fear.
The collection of bodies now sprawled on the floor,
Is that what everybody has been waiting for?
Replaced, rearranged, perturbatingly stabbed,
Would you care being disposed, or researched in a lab?
If the answers are what you are hoping to find,
Would you mind to encase yourself inside my mind?
Ground floor, leveled out to the level of ground,
Scribbled into the memory while safe and sound,
Never doubt to return to a forgotten dome.
Why, hello, someone! How are ya? We are not home.
|воскресенье, 1 июля 2018 г.|
|Дама в белом. 15:52:14|
|Запись только для друзей.|
|26.05.18. ForsakenFox 20:00:34|
|Despise intentions of what our parts care to make,|
Double agenda of a side or full intake,
A moment of divide in step, outcome to know,
Wherever either of you stay or wish to go.
A picture tells of bright and resolve-colored stars,
The teller shows the row of hardship-painted scars,
A few directions of the story intertwine,
The only one is not the kind to hold the line.
And in the end, there is no place for elder debts,
As far as words go, the cooperation ends,
Might aftermath not let us roam around as free,
No need to worry of the part where we agree.
A little victory will always make it count,
Before it's over, staying calm is a way out.
Listen no whispers quiet, nor the praises loud,
Goodnight sweetheart, and rest assured, you can be proud.