I tried hard to memorize the code,
In which lay mnemonics to the secret thought
Tracing the truth to it’s final abode,
What faith beginning did faith begot?
Beacons of light broke through from my rind,
The appetite of darkness devoured in it’s fault
Life is just another casino for the blind,
Where truth plays poker in an unlit vault
I measured time with memory alone,
The pendulum swings as it takes us forward
I’d have killed my torturous telephone,
If only I wasn’t such a fucking coward.
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- suraj sharma
- my mind, therefore, becomes this outstretched field of immeasurable serenity, which, although illuminated at angles awkward and unfamiliar to my eyes - is neither dark nor twilit. The strange lighting turns the vacuous foreplay of shadows chasing shadows into an euphoric, almost utopian feeling which is held in suspension as long as this configuration of appearances beckons the restlessness of reason ever forward into the uncharted hinterlands of imagination while at the same time compelling me to bless the lighting director.
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