tales of reality

Let’s fill this page with black ink as thoughts. Watch as I cram the void between these two lines. Words from an empty heart to a blank page, oh this is the fun part, here comes all the rage..

Pass me that clamp, take hold of the saw, we can rip open my chest go in and explore. Stories of old tell us of a treasure once there, a fine piece of magnificence a sought after alluring snare…

The tales did say, when held in ones hand all life would stand still, in that moment there would fall a drop, a single drop of the purest love, the clearest truth. A moment of clarity in a world of chaos, a definite answer to the search in your heart. It’s the drop that’s missing, the piece of your puzzle, the H2 to your O and the satisfaction to your sigh.  No gold no shine, no rivers divine, not the glowing sun or aurora herself would ever be so encapsulating. Drink it in, take it all.

For this is just a fairy-tale, a story of sort.

Cause in this real world, grey clouds stream through the gaps between my ribs, the smog fills the pleural cavity and as it creeps all legends are forgotten, all tales are miss told.

Now there, clamped open in front of you is just a heart, two lungs and some pipes, beating life through my veins into an empty vessel I call me

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