Vision Ghost Poems

Being alone in the darkness, when it all makes sense
Free to engage the utilities, from radicals to pretence
Dawning of a realisation, conjured to the understanding
A vocal monologue, or soliloquy, reveals tendering
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Defeated in this shell of circumstantial rage
Keeps happening, like a curse of a malevolent mage
To me on the floor in a ball, so others can kick me
Delighting in my pain, my whimpering soul, never free
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Forlorn that of life likens the chronological and eventual embolism of time
Accordance to the modulated values for elementary suggestions of your prime
Yielded only from that of destination forming the impulse of emotional and logical legalism
Embalmed in fire concurrent to the pride for the instruments of warfare’s symbolism
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I am nearly 30, I remember mobiles that couldn't send texts, email had never been heard of, CD ROM hadn't been invented yet, my first computer couldn't log on to the internet because it didn't exist then and TV had only 4 channels, the only way to stay in touch was by a hand written letter and yeah I really miss that.
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I feel no cradle for the jesus that supposedly blessed me,
as Mary died in the hopelessness of faith.
An exhausted heart, tender and already so burdened,
long before the years of the adult have been sowed.
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Encompass self neutron for existential flight as a particle in weightless confirmation
That the travelling throughout and within stars escapes embodiment’s pursuant acceleration
From totality of acceptance for the infinitive exploration of a theorised unknown
Never the terminal end; only as the limitation of the soul far reaching of one’s own
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A woman screams, though not from pain of labour
But from that which is born, to her a new endeavour
That now the curse of this, deformed born creature
Has so taken its grip upon, another deadly scripture
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Counter bound in this ever revolving insular succession of ignorance
Floated like the air supply of oxygen polluted to that of our fragility
Incensed by the already enraged; whose war torn flag do you follow?
I exhale as does many more to repeat my juridical surviving of yesterday
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I severed my veins again in uselessness
I thought I would drought the pus,
of my own contamination.
Because something confused me always.
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I am sat on a train with the yielding thoughts brought to a new surrender
When tears augment suspiciously as a liquid exhaust in all its splendour
In a cognitive concentration so powerful that I raise my level beyond sight
That I have a music note slowly unlocking in my head which I will set free
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