Wednesday, May 13, 2009

Storm

A hunger, hungry. An itch for dialects, to mist my ambitions. Set to mist, set to concentrate. I can't let the world hear or sense my ambitions, by default, it gets in the way. A jackhammer to crush and destroy that roadblock. The fences must fall.

Spiraling barbed wire, perched atop weaved steel. Climb the fence! Climb, climb, climb! Let the wire sink deep if it needs to. For it is the scars that will aid you through the raging waves that we call; life. Escape it, escape everything else except for yourself. Just a beep on the radar, it comes and goes. Just get that feeling, everything else is recycled and reproduced for the ride of the next wave. Come, borrow the easy, the mellow, the calm of the storm, borrow it and use it well. Wisely, strength comes from knowledge. Knowledge to control this storm and knowledge to exercise this gift you borrowed. Comes running down the hill, I collide with my ambitions. I. Am. Full. I wait for my next meal.

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