When ones voice fails do you chuckle?
Do we just mimic gestures and nod in the light of failure?
I have lingered so long before those eyes that judge and seek for more than this string of obsurd commentary,
Yet that presipus at the edge of oblivion forever shinning within those vacant pupils becons me forward as if you snare me with your discussion of fools and by such I dance as the fool.
Is this not what we deem a mockery of gods creation when absent is the mind and peers draw fourth daggers to slay what bit of soul remains. Nay you heed not the words and use some poison to etch away the pixels absorbed into the brain but the image shall not blur, and in time you see the film of your life whispered through the chaos of mundane moments but you shan't have regrets, how can we regret time taken, time lost, time given, time exploited and yet is it time or ourselves that have been lost, exploited, given for the name of art, humanity, existence. You are exiled and your dreams are nothing more than trinkets set before a child that is spoken to by those who hope for genius uncertain where the world will take such voyagers. So I hear the word stop, a child bellows it down the hall, an officer flashes their light at me as a body lays beside a vehicle, a co worker insists, the small world compatriot that wishes for peace as he serves me a breakfast burrito all whisper it. Because the eyes tell they have seen already too much and we can only hope to blur the rest or pray for dementia within our youth to ease the ache of heart and never know such truths.