if the world ever gets to know the darkness of the minds that lurk inconsequentially in the alleys of the underworld....we would find an evening to lounge in the marine draive without fear.....time to recapitulate all the sounds of blasts..... hollering cries from the archangels of the city...yet no hand of care coming forward....
.......Inspiration trickles down a lost link desperately trying to hold on to. Inspiration is dead in a Reality as consuming as cancer. Eating the soul from within. Gnawing at it like menacing rodents gone rampant with plague....... .......The silvery moon hanging in anticipation at a quiet western horizon. Moonlight blues and silver fairies making love by the dancing stream. Streams and cascades caressing the mountain slopes, awaken in the shadows of a silent night. Contemplating a mood that stirs strings of a faint nostalgia. Southern stars, bright with a soothing brilliance, trying to communicate. Posing questions, eternal querries about the nature of beauty, the implications of life...... ........Then there are the tears. Heavens look upon and nod in helplessness. Wandering souls, burning amber within, a cold impassivity on the surface. Passions running high, but with not the remotest inkling of the vents. Vents to release the rapid retrogate. Only a wiltering wilderness to wallow ...
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