Multiplication
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A chance to stomp forever into the next
era of transcendence. The melody is
methodical, arranging the silence, told to
be real with this scattered organization.
Everything exactly the same, there is no
love & there is no pain; waking to their
eyes losing hope in my recovered
fragments. Out of time, for I know it isn't
real. The truth of the illusion convinces
the mass multiplied by the speed in
which the thoughts arrive, taken away.
Holding my hand, sitting in descending
conversation, your promises are lies. Yet
now? How could the continued
momentum cease to carry me further
away? When could the idea grant a
lightning response? Give me what I
deserve, no matter how awful or
wonderful. A taste to savor, a feeling to
vibe on.
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