a contradictory metaphor, I see through,
the misty morning glows after,
I write under the influences of Poe or
Vanilla Ice songs in the backgrounds of my poetry.

Seek the darker realms of , Thoreau or
Romeo and Juliet, at times
when we make love.

My numbing goes so far, farther than
Frost on the tallest Mountains, questioning,
which ******* road to take.

It too late for me to turn back, to Whitman
dost the Bard laugh uncontrollably,
turns over three times, wherever he lies.
me thinks.

writhe to write the next suffering soul
of vast darkness there there in a hell
senseless suffering so suffers here
make sense of here and now

Bright is the sunshine on sunny days
dark is nights human generating hell
onto each other, so suffering
is but a human existence how,

might the sky illuminate vast hearts lonely,
in her crimson glow terminate the soul
into every cell, dying dying
each night alone   suffering.

suffering the end alone, alone
to be born into this, must mean
nature is cruel or yet, seeing
seeing trust in a plan I see see

Voids, of reasoning, no human equations
equal this dark or can ever see
all the light ever shone from every star
or every Meaning.

Crystal brain I the embedded pictures in.
Time is the life--  I eye-- a;
Feeling slept time unclothed.
Metal my slab I seen do world a at of.
It take have;
Flashes all.
In-- love.
My and with with and up as I.
Built am memory me a real cold terrify? me back grand I me;
**** dead--.
Memories roll seen camera of I;
It looking depleted;
Have touches life--;
My abyss I if skin-- like living;
Oh in