black figure, thrust against a white backdrop.
your face is gaunt and skeletal my dear;
your soul seems broken, she whispered.
leading a symbiotic existence,
forever elaborating on this design of humanity.
who will imagine the future of all this?
perhaps someday it will all be saved.
for now though, the simplest joy is in this;
thrust your head out the second floor window, eyes closed.
feel the rain, and pretend to be riding the ocean's waves;
rushing with adventure for all you've got.
this happiness is to be chosen,
or these madnesses will surely take you prisoner.
your soul seems broken, she whispered.
leading a symbiotic existence,
forever elaborating on this design of humanity.
who will imagine the future of all this?
perhaps someday it will all be saved.
for now though, the simplest joy is in this;
thrust your head out the second floor window, eyes closed.
feel the rain, and pretend to be riding the ocean's waves;
rushing with adventure for all you've got.
this happiness is to be chosen,
or these madnesses will surely take you prisoner.
