OhGr "Welt" Track 7: [Chaos]
Dec. 7th, 2002 11:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wolven7OhGr - [Chaos]--- So, i lied, i guess... i'm back... i had a poem...(OhGr - [Solow]). Perhaps my lack of use of periods, or other definitive punctuation marks symbolises my inherent inability to Be Definitive... always equivocating... I was told, tonight, that i would make a good Mentat. It's all about seeing the options, and knowing the Path... Sounds like more a job for one of Destiny's ilk... I know where All Roads lead, and i know my job.
Horrid
Curling in upon myself,
in an effort to know who placed these chains.
I cannot seem to shake the idea, that,
somehow, it was me.
But, without knowing the nature of the lesson
i'm trying to teach myself, i would gladly
rend these shackles, and toss the pieces
into the void, at my heart.
My tainted urges, my rushing sound,
a silence that speaks to Me, so loud...
But they don't hear it.
All they see is the masking of Felt,
behind the walls of deadened air.
With them, it's either speak,
or you haven't communicated. And I
disagree that this is the only way.
sliding myself into the Baroque/Gothic
Giger-esque tumult that is my core,
i see the lines and rabid pages that compose the sonnet of my secrets.
And they are myriad more than you would care to know.
For, without the captain, the ship cannot sail.
It is not a question of Need, but of faith.
Without the Question, communication
cannot be reached. And if you don't want to know,
then why should i tell you?
These li[v]es are Horrid...
and i can do nothing but taste them all
for sweetness.
(c)Damien Williams. All Rights Reserved.
Horrid
Curling in upon myself,
in an effort to know who placed these chains.
I cannot seem to shake the idea, that,
somehow, it was me.
But, without knowing the nature of the lesson
i'm trying to teach myself, i would gladly
rend these shackles, and toss the pieces
into the void, at my heart.
My tainted urges, my rushing sound,
a silence that speaks to Me, so loud...
But they don't hear it.
All they see is the masking of Felt,
behind the walls of deadened air.
With them, it's either speak,
or you haven't communicated. And I
disagree that this is the only way.
sliding myself into the Baroque/Gothic
Giger-esque tumult that is my core,
i see the lines and rabid pages that compose the sonnet of my secrets.
And they are myriad more than you would care to know.
For, without the captain, the ship cannot sail.
It is not a question of Need, but of faith.
Without the Question, communication
cannot be reached. And if you don't want to know,
then why should i tell you?
These li[v]es are Horrid...
and i can do nothing but taste them all
for sweetness.
(c)Damien Williams. All Rights Reserved.
no subject
Date: 2002-12-08 01:18 am (UTC)night air washes us clean of
the sins of thought
lotus, from the soil
to the stark black blossom
of hearts desire
what is the meaning?
tengoku wa doko?
wispered secrets fall
answers await you
open closed eyes and see them
you know the way home
You know who...
Whoo..
Date: 2002-12-08 09:18 am (UTC)-Mech
Re: Whoo..
Date: 2002-12-08 09:54 am (UTC)