Monday, September 20, 2004

prose in the making
alone...
doing fine...
one episode...
i plummet to the abyss...

the past is the corollary to the future
but my past consists only
of questions unanswered
of feelings ardently hidden
of words unarticulated
deprived of the chance to be revealed

i've tried, nay, struggled to drown this out
numbed my battered ego with worthless pursuits
the pressure building
slowly
i can feel it now
ready to burst
every sentiment
serving as fuel
to the inferno
every second
just waiting to erupt
any time now...


++ ei... i know it sucks... it lacks rhythym and haromony... but it is a poem because i will it to be so. you cannot argue about that... it is an airtight argument. admit it... it's not too bad for a person whose only experience with words are blogging and writing essays and one stupid limerick for litera1...

Morbid Indulgencestarted this journey at9/20/2004