#gothwaffles

I am spoon fed with

It occurs

To me

As I lie here daunted

By the absence of darkness

The light—

With all it burns

I pondered the deep depths

The void could inspire

And in that gleaming depths born from it—

The will of our desire

The earth

as I knew it

Unknowing in

My comprehension

Still, I sit, in fear-like wonder

What will come in our final hour?

Raise up or descend

Us

Fleshed and bound—contortionist

Them

We may never know— ventriloquist

I ask,

The moment we lost control

I imagine

Long time ago

In this dream we are apart

A fraction

A fiction

Us, willing captives

We form our reality

Knowingly, we forget

The secret writing inside

We are incomplete

Hidden from ourselves

Forbidden

Our love is our will—

Our hearts,

The fuel to fire

This life, our act

Unwilling to bend in

Desire

Here I will raise myself as a model

Here I will mock my stature

Here I will create my own image

My statue, however instrumental

Contrasts my true form, a rebuttal

-Dillon B

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