Continuum

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Continuum

Continuum. continuous suffering of the persistent existance
                   of the continuously reluctant past
                        reluctant to quit to appear

it dares to come                   it daes to vanish

as it speaks up to announce itself it's instantly banished

reduced to nothing where it's constantly reaching out from
reaching out to anyone to grab hold of.. of.
 
cause they are really all the same , a-void, a meaningless entities,
                                                                                    soul researching cripples,
uncool and uncorrected, them stained purity
     don't want to know unholy spirit
           them don't want to see the empty merit
                 the measurment which are all wrong, messed up
                                                          all summoned too soon,
just not enough solidity in the past              they say
       not enough                time
                                         in the uncircular        unliniar ways of persistent__ existent_

Lets follow the pretext
                         pretence of being the essence of the children we
were supposed to be when we were born
   when we were supposed to be pure yet never were

cause once here, we instantly embodied of the dirty stain
        of the preconditional copies of the nasty children
                      born split second before us
                      continuous embodiment of the violence
                                          commited to us commited to them

Forget the essence of the past
                           forget the essence of the child
    forget the essence of the soul
              forget the essence of the most mind-blowing nihilist theory

Cause you are not the past
                          you are not the soul
you are not the most mind-blowing nihilist theory
                                  and you are not the child

say good night now

  

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The true philosopher and the true poet are one, and a beauty, which is truth, and a truth, which is beauty, is the aim of both.

Ralph Waldo Emerson, American Poet (1803-1882)

JuriTired’s Poems (2)

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