Background: Below is a post of non-sense, made up of fragments of nocturnal thoughts shaped by booze, a tired body and a mind overcome by sleeplessness.
Guidelines: If you by any chance happen to grasp a meaning out of this post, then you definitely need to seek help for over using your analytical mind and trying to draw a finding out of nothing but illusions and a bunch of meaningless sentences compressed together in a pathetic attempt to come up with a poem.
The end always has the same glow of the beginning
It is a vicious cycle after all
The one we are living in
It all ends where it begins
Sometimes there are years in between,
Minutes or fragments of a second
But momentary madness undefined by the rules of space and time
Lasts as long as a heartbeat
It could be a fragment of a second,
Minutes or years
But at the end, it all starts where it ends
Is it starting to end… or is it ending into a new start?
Discounts - Having restored the seven books of poetry with which I am at least partly content, I discounted the fuckers by 20% for an undisclosed length of time too. ...
2 days ago