Sunday, April 15, 2018

pswordplay(prod. by lost soul)

written and performed by stranded

prod. by lost soul

when the nights are cool
i elude the discomfort
that encumbers my solitude
the heat rips it asunder
as if it’s a grim hunter of molecules
this beat
ascends combustion of fossil fuels
and in that particular instance
i approve
that’s the only kind of heat i like
when i walk the street at night
headphones squeezing tight
like pythons that need a bite
i feel like i got the power cosmic
like norrin radd
this is what arises
when you’re caught
in purgatory’s grasp
with a fast evolving
vast explorer’s staff
cataloging all the data
that he passes on his path
as this happens
if you could see atoms
as they form a mass
they would appear
as entire galaxies
flashing forward fast
like starships in hyperdrive
stars turn to stripes and lines
he’s taken to a world
in which
he’s drawn to his rightful mind
that’s lost giving sight to blind
a gift of unimagined worth
his beats invoke involuntary flames
like when a dragon burps
it’s like fray
despite being
split in half at birth
finding a way
to still slay
unknowingly attracting lurks
with no understanding
of why they’re always after her
and all of this
while trapped in a future
where no magic works
within her
lies this stimuli
that even she barely knows
driven by an inner eye
vision rises from her very soul
there are those
who are so distinct
they feel like they’re alone
when surrounded
a mountain of people
is like a barren hole
so as to signal other kindreds
who share their woe
they foster this inner strength
to generate a glaring glow

their whole radius
mightily shoving all at once
layered pulsation
their light production
as strong as suns
but these beams
can only be seen
with certain eyes
by unique beings
with the sort of minds
that diversify
one can only become
truly immortalized

by carving a place for themselves
in their observers’ minds
they must do things
that cannot be ignored by time
so those who witnessed their deeds
tell their stories before they die

there’s always some external source
that calls forth my rhymes
an oblongata body of water
with swords inside
my thoughts are sharp
and to the point
my skull’s like a porcupine
i walk a distorted line
in alternate world divides
i’m the result
of multiple worlds combined
trapped behind mirrors
that hold what’s before my eyes

i am what’s reflected
off a surface
a blend of several
imperfect blurry photos

i don’t see life
quite the same
as most imagine it
i traipse alone in labyrinths
containing no inhabitants

wandering through mazes
within a maze
that’s cartographicless

on an ageless quest
to roam the aimless roads
where shadows live
light flashes
and life happens
by aggregate
actions collide
and travel through time
like happy accidents
attached and tied
elaborate designs
comprise the fathomless
thoughts emerge
the bubble you’re in
is constructed by what you intimate
its structure
illustrates its origin
your mental state
so be mindful
of what it’s absorbing
as it inflates

you may terraform an atmosphere
that you can’t tolerate
trapped inside a hostile habitat
that you cannot escape
a jungle
within which
you must survive
sprung from little seeds
collapsed by danger
the maturation of your decision trees
so tread with zero gravity
if that’s at all possible
mark my words
or not
if they’re just a grain of salt to you
i point at brains

i just aim to offer truth
but perhaps
you don’t put forth effort
when taking off your fruit
this world provides agonies
all for you
that perhaps
the sufferer may not remove
but there are some unfeigned comrades
who can pluck the pain and loss from you
of course not entirely
but much will fade far from view
the vague chain reaction
of vivid psionic sorcery
distinct interpretations of lenses
that all but orphan grief
a peek behind the curtain
an author
long ago
monsters that like to bleed
while i’m peace
with how i chose TO
and NOT to proceed
one shouldn’t treat
discarding their instincts
like a trivial deed
despite the fact
that either way
i write what i mean
certain times
that won’t suffice
my appetite won’t be appeased

i wish to keep a firm grip
on who i am
the objective
to astral project from myself
to embrace me
the connectedness
of widespread individuals tethered
with the strength
of dimethyltryptamine-enhanced limbic resonance
a web of which
is threaded
with allosynaptic messages
e-netic rifts
between which
transmissions and receptions slip
braided on all scales
both macro and quantum levels stitched
a few are no match
for a slew of atomic specialists
we may all exist
in a truth
where the bottom NEVER is
on the top
sitting confused
such qualms are measureless
peering over the edge
of a growing hole
with deference
our souls longing for recompense
but fated to haunt the precipice
so seek
but don’t be so distraught
if you never find
a journey is defined by the during
not the finish line

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