Feeling down,
the spiral weightlessness
send surge to my brain.
I can't imagine
the depth of my thoughtlessness,
the world can't smile
at the futility of my graveness.
My imaginations of the future's bright colours,
lay still on the dusty ground of the place
where it portend danger.
That drum beat of danger,
is the rhythm
i will gladly dance to.
The throbbing of my desire will sway along
to the masked chatter of their spiteful mockery.
In the bland taste of their vindictiveness,
they will choke at my rot.
(c) Editoro Dennis
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