A Decaying Flaw

In view a man that only lives towards a purpose that is vain
One that stands at the gate of his own atonement
And a fool that has become obsessed with this eradicating dream

Yet he fades with the fragile fable 
That is fixed to a beautiful lie
One to which is fabricated with the sounds of paradise

And still…

Humbly, do I strive as to make this reality such
So within my awaken state
Shall I thrive to saciface my own death
To live as a well known perception that is false 

Along with this impression
Together, I can further try to perceive the ambient ways
Of what some would justify as their own consciousness

Therefore I digress  
While being fated to this loose and looming reality
That others endure to call a stable mesmerizing truth
I linger as a disenchanted decaying flaw

A forgettable character that gazes with a cold blue stare
As the crimson moon mirrors upon my clear, yet reflecting eyes
For this life to me rots within the hands of a deity
Whose will is forever unexplained…

And who I ask,
Is to make sense of all this madness…

The poet?… The artist?…

Perhaps we are the ones that are arrogant
Beyond the scope of the fragmented self-rightous pride
That we have come to personify

However, we stem from nothing more than a broken message
Held by a faint whisper
Much like, The hopeless thoughts that sits within scattered pieces of your elevated mind    

~ Paradise’s Poet ~

One comment

  1. Paradise whispers and beckons; a fragile dream that is lived by many, a dream that might possibly bear fruits of reality. But has anyone really seen and experienced the truth, or is it just one of the broken decaying pieces of flawed belief and imagination is the question addressed to the mystery of life, by your lines dear Tony Yang Sir.

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