You're reality is warped
In truth, you are trapped
But there is a ladder to hope
a path less travelled, more desolate than you
that path is a rail
but it is a mere reflection
a blank
Altough truth be told I simply enjoy the seclusion
because i'm not some angry pedestrian
standing on the corner of hopeless and vain
because this is not the sunset boulevarde
and all the trucks
have crashed
and the harvest
all those magnificent trees
will be turned sharp; with factory perfection.
(But what does this mean?
i'm not sure you will ever get out
what with the last picture being sharpened in itself
through devious means
the others being experiments in crop jobs)
if i could give you a colour it would be the deepest purple
that of the secret field of stars
that i lay in in my minds embrace
when i gaze beyond
- Alderach.
