when television takes over the world
white noise will seep from the edges of objects
as the world falls apart from the siren song of
static in rare form
pouring against the glass bottom
of a waterfall of emanation
against the surface of object reality
radiating a low level light
and a calming addictive grip upon the mind
a subliminal message in pattern based tomes
the essence of light comes from the source
of what it shines upon
inside a picture of your reality
in a cell of aging eternity
-
but i found it wasn't inside anything
it was on the surface
it could be dragged from one place to another
able to be carried when i place my hand in it
to be put another place
like smoke on the surface
holding like smoke but not affixed to things
a shield of echoing storm
like a smoke that always falls to the surface of things
its on everything and in everyone
from lineage before my time
like water into a tree, breaking through
in small glimpses given through shields
small obscure holes that seal instantly up
on all of you, ever too soon
dripping like blood from tooth and fang
the prophecy none can see
like it was in the raining dreams
to drown the rising light
so the demons can race to the top of silent hill
in the black to catch me holding the world