Saturday, October 31, 2015

confession p. 33

What am i doing?
I string sentences and dead words and call it life
A creation
What of madness and folly
of shelving the present to usher in the past

Do not show an artist beauty
unless you seek to attend beauty's funeral
Do not unveil the truth before an artist
the pen and the brush are a hangman's noose

What use do the blind have for mirrors?

This is an age of necromancy
For we are dismantling the world and replacing it
with an upgraded version
Earth 2.0
And it is alive and well in the imagination

I am not an artist
I am a necromancer

And this is a ritual
in which you and I are ritualistically
playing God
and trying to breathe life into the dead and dying