Byline: Nocturnal Promises
Things and their consequences don't always produce the desired effects.
It's meaningless to go through life with a measuring cup. The mish mash is best experienced in the quick sand.
Your unique point of view is the only glue used to stick your myth on the universal search engine of the soul. I'm always trying to make my mess and mix it up in the mortar.
Life is all about going through phases and we can only dream about desiring the right things for the right consequences. Besides, there's always a little butter to make the day go by better.
Most kids know how to ignite sparks but they're not too good at stoking flames. Taking what you can get and making it sensational is the mark of all good marksmen but still, you have to follow through if only for self respect.
Prisons programmed to patronize freedom foster participants who promise a right to live, a right to a life. But dignity gets defaulted while the end of the world comes at dawn.
Pursuits of ego in the richest sense become crash course test drives with mad champions out to win the race, anxious for moments of discovery.
Developing a purpose and cursing the darkness come to resemble the night, where no can of semi-flat black is able to cure the cause.
The effects of regret set in and regardless of what was said, it's time to put this thing to bed and seek nocturnal compromise.
A promised land with few promises presupposes any want for integrity, not when far out rockabilly stomps riddle the landscape.
Today's dystopia casts the candidates in the correct corner trying to understand the parameters of people in the context of humanity.
For right now reading inside this box doesn't violate the public health code. Beyond these borders, I know not what applies.
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