They Say I Fancy The EpicThe epic is the cherished, that which tussles across the existential ennui and finds the gates of your attentiveness somnambulisticaly hinging ajar, in sleepy hopes that something memorable might spawn on these days with dewy diadems mounted atop the Familiar, with all your worship thrust upon the repetitious. The epic is that which is only found in perception, in relegations replete with objectivity, in moments that you must define, in moments you’re probably too enraptured with to define. The epic ranges from that which reflects silver’d screens (though these pluck eyes with the shine of polish, these incidents finding tarnish insubstantialThey Say I Fancy The Epic
Of NudityNudity is the epitomical mask of humanity, burgeoning with all the wisdom and serenity of the Illuminated Manuscripts whom spoke of diligence, contrition. The writing's inept phraseology rooted in every swirl of the scribe's fortuitous droning, an inken ballet played out for days upon years in the musty niche of his cell, with caricatures of human misery that look oddly of forgotten tears and remembered smiles, as though the everyman sucked joy from every day. That is the testament of denuded facades embayed within the epidermis, where the truest lies of humanity fettered by features and then imprisoned by thin cotton's temptations. All thatOf Nudity
Concerning Writer's BlockIt seems to me that the affliction of writer’s block is naught but the sternest reprimand for being happy life can offer. It comes when you have dared the barbed trellis standing unshakable before you, immovably between you and Contentment, and perches itself within an aloft aerie. Now, the fetters do not clasp on the instant, do not deign to divest while within the realm of a few blinks of the eye, preferring to outlast caution and await languor, when you indolently lay with a dream stenciled on your iris, and the mellow fragrance of daffodil brews to a sleepy melange with the eminent mid-day sun.Concerning Writer's Block
This peace is that which suffer
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welcome to DA.
Cheers,
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Wiring every step.
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I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul
- W.E. Henley
~burn-p0etry
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"I would much rather be hated for who I am than adored for who I am not"
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