We're silhouettes in the moonlight, struggling in its trance, and as the clock grips its strange, bony-white hands together on the twelve, we embrace. It seems we can't escape the shadows cast down upon us from vacant towers, but we manage to hide with deliberate disobedience. Her lips close ever-so-softly around the words only an abstract portrait could paint. Her oil runs thick with the blood of those damned by her trance, mesmerized by her beauty, entrapped by her will to escape this frame – the shell they created. Mascara, dripping with rain, bleeds onto my heart, and, like a pale river bank awaiting the morning flood, I open to catch her tears with joyous concern. Her countenance sinks into the haunted, dark stone wall; her will evaporates into nothingness. I can't find her, and I dare not look. My mind,shaken with transcendent riddles, can rest in the solace that I know she will find me when nostalgia reaches her. The crying won’t come."
"One machine can do the work of fifty ordinary men. No machine can do the work of one extraordinary man." -- Elbert Hubbard
The bright orange star shines blight across the darkness in these eyes. And this perpetual night I've locked in my sights has me centered just fine. Along these lines I'll sit here and dine on the mysteries of life. Breathe in and fly above this lake of lies, spinning illusions into tapestries embroidered with black ties. Don't let slide the sighs of hypocrisy; break out of the mold of a distanced society and liberate the chains of an exploited commodity.
Let's draw a new slate and put a lock on this gate leading to our minds. We'll type up a new case, put it in a brand new suitcase, present it to the man holding time. Let's wait to skate on this ice-rink known as fate like puppets held too tight. We'll put on a new face and watch this ice-lake come to meet the chandelier in the sky.
The street lights climb up the mountain side scaling towers in the shadows of my eyes. And the bright white lies, the ones that risk our lives, are too great to hide. As I lie awake inside these realms of hate scattered in my mind, I can see the headline carved in the skyline as we break the chandelier in the sky.
"By nature, men are nearly alike; by practice, they get to be wide apart." -- Confucius
"Do not judge men by mere appearances; for the light laughter that bubbles on the lip often mantles over the depths of sadness, and the serious look may be the sober veil that covers a divine peace and joy." -- E. H. Chapin
"People keep you company and serve you for a motive; Real friends are hard to find these days. People are insincere, clever in pursuing their own ends; Wander alone like the rhinoceros."
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