Am I really free?
Caught in a web spun of lies.
Rusted prison door
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Am I really free?
Caught in a web spun of lies.
Rusted prison door
rusted prison door
i pluck my worn hide and my
amnestic heart fumbles
Amnestic heart fumbles
I search for the correct map
Lost my way again.
Lost my way again
can barely put one foot in
front of the other
Front of the other
How do I even know that
Maybe up is down
Maybe up is down;
In which case, the footprints on,
The ceiling make sense.
(Sorry, that's a nasty line to follow.)
The ceiling makes sense,
It's pattern of almost words
And cloudlike reason.
Lovely as always Riesa. But even you had to add a sneaky 's'. I feared as much.
And cloudlike reason,
Forms animal shapes and ships;
Such is it's nature.
hmm? whatever do you mean? What's a sneaky 's'?
Such is it's nature,
Feline grace, blue eyed intent
To pounce until tamed.
My last line - "The ceiling make sense."
Your first line - "The ceiling makes sense,"
To pounce until tamed,
By life and experience;
But still wild at heart.
OH, strange how I didn't notice. you win.
But still wild at heart,
Stirred by blue-notes and hope strewn
Immersion in all.
Immersion in all
Like a penetrating sea,
Life springs from the bones.
Life springs from the bones.
Death hides amongst the fallen.
Dreams are born in you.
This is #1. I wrote it so I could post #2.
Dreams are born in you.
Through your processors emerge.
This is computing!
This is computing.
Convenience marred by popups.
****ing SpyFalcon!
Yeah. Try that!