Evening and the Mornin

Evening and the Mornin
Baroque art was meant to evoke emotion and passion instead of the calm rationality that had been prized during the Renaissance... Is just a experiment of sight, sound an words, I dont know what the hell I'm doin... 0.0

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Harmonic convergence,,, fill me till my cup runs through,,,

Monochromatic shades, grey black and blue surround me,

Comfort me, without speaking, should I still be found living

Seek me out as I have you, along cobblestone corridors of soulful thoughts and passionate mind,

Memories pale and damp, before words form in me, disturbing the sound of monolithic visions,

Soothing textures of colored coolness,,, Calmly wearing me like a second skin,

Take me home,,, please will you not take me home

My Lovely One is just like me, only beautiful, no I won’t forget her,,, don’t you ever change,

Carving and chipping away old stone, till the monoliths a baroque vision, of all it should have ever been,

Picking me fresh from an unmarked grave, as unto a withered rose made alive,

And the evening and the morning was the first day,

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Harmonic Convergence, riding along smooth pathways

Where do I go now, the spirits restless

For senses to perpetually take in site of voices and feelings of sound, from hoarded memories grand,

Buried deep within ground, Bursting up from Tarmack, through the clouds

Soaring, spiraling, sailing neath the Suns rays, above clouds of monochromatic greys,

That shower down rain upon man

Sinking and absorbing low, many layers below the feet

Where the seeds of hope and tomorrow meet, oh- sweet bells of youth sing, ringing loud and echoing true

As seeds of tomorrow burst forth through green pastured streams and epitaphs not yet read

Arise,,, arise, arouse a rose from the grave, placed perfectly still, handled carefully with love,

And the evening and the morning was the second day;

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Oh industry, fanatical sower of discord, what more have you to do with me

FAITH NO MORE have I in you or in the Helter Skelter of your way,

Breathing in thyne ways of heavy metal toxicity, yours is a mechanical heart

River of flames, stealing souls as pastime activities

Weaver of dreams, made winding through my head,

The peacefulness of the porch, and the wildness of the night

You first came to me shining like an angel, and her seven evening stars

How can you own disorder in the sacred silent waves of my world

Do not believe me, look around on your own ground

Fortified in the ground to the last Arquebus,

And yet I do tell you life it goes on and on,

its too much for me to take,

Industry thou are dark and out of key, selling all the worlds and life found therein,

a glutton you have become, it’s a horrible site to behold

to fight for thee is to fight a Titan against a Titan,

But for acclimation and repentance, though chains are heavy and bind me, leaving me spiraling down

Prayest thou for me if words come,

And weep for me, if the tears come,

So my conscience can always follow, where ever you may roam

And the evening and the morning were the third day

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