Walls of Stone

Thus in the late of night, we thicken-out this wall and soundproof the windows black, silence the doors to which the manufactured peace must come. Still the mind will not be silenced it continues to clamor as a human need, and must be feed, but to what will its desire be? Alas how will one live outside the forest, the forests of the entire world. …

Sully 08’12/9/08

Walls of Stone

 I am trapped in observation announced with no rebuttal, looking through my little port-hole on to the world… A world given in “sacred creations” left in salvage by mankind; what reminisced sconce left in      inherited pipettes?

  Looking out, as if to copy one’s view of such options but why, is it not liberty which gives me chosen identity? But then only by shedding separation of this wall shall I be known! And thus known, what will be of this, some value of pettier worth? And   if not true to one-self, does it not become a sin towards mankind showing others a false shell? Am I not a stranger coming into this world, and if I do not show this reflected shell, shall I  now be lessened by my own   shielded character, which will shun any new friendship and surely be seen as a pompous spy!  Such Fear becomes my enemy towards self-worth, and thus the cost will forever be un-paid. And why? This box of alienations  reaming locked by a lid in which I alone   hold the key, forever willing to let others take such lighted center-stage,  showing less wit and more slurred arrogant chatter.  Reposed, I retreat back into the acceptance, bowing to the ritual standard;   again…

 With my footnotes that continue to persecute me, and chant such defile back onto my own incomplete humble existence.