thedarkharlequin

free writing at the coffee shop....

LOVE, intangible and fleeting
slips through my fingers
in a manner not dissimilar
to the well oiled chords
of time. All things of
vague concept passing
me by as i hurl
perilously towards
this lifes final destination.
When the merciful snake
of creation releases me
from it's mortal coil
and devours me to the
bowels of the great afterlife.
My flaccid excuse of a cognitive
contribution to the vast diseased
pool of mans consciousness being
the only remnants of my existence.
Staining the persistent reality
in which this life inhabits.
My corpse, the golem that it is,
returns to the mud and clay of
which it was molded from.