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 Grandeur Of Melancholy      13682 Poems Read



Machines in our systematic reproach.
Humans in our disengaged chambers.

To you fuel from what is not anything.
Let it rile up the senses, dillute the very
soul.

Surged on a perspective nerve.
To pinch until it starts to burn.

Antagonize, until it was only
fair play.

We are dimming the Sun
from what night cannot
find, when shadows
climb every mountain
hide realize it is built up
from nothing.

What everything is not
what you thought
remember it is built up
from nothing's vault.
Reality and what you
sought to distort was
distorting you.




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