The Gallery

Written by: adam hollingsworth

I will find 
         A center in you, 
              The portrait, by 
                      My other side. 
                               I will listen 
                      To your words 
              Manipulate my eyes. 
          Aesthetically, it pleads 
To the senses 
                     Of 
                         My 
                             Mind. 
Now, I leave, the informed lies 
                        Of 
                            Life. 

                          Great 
                  Screaming Christ! 
             Lazy Mary will deject all 
        The elated, of our pathetic time.
The mindless voice has spoken thrillfully, 
        While death makes angels of us 
             All. Unplanned, bound, 
                        In a strange 
                               Hour, 

A search for wisdom, lost to a decrepit flower. 

Did you know 
        Madmen run our 
               Prisons? Ignorance is 
                        A cheap drug, but, 
                                     Who’s to say? 
                        I’m drawn into 
               A concept of circles, 
        Hypnotized by a 
Hugh of pale 
                        Meaningless 
                                         Summer 
                                                     Colors. 
The strange voices we hear, coming 
              From the center 
                                          Of  
                                               A 
                                                  Canvas… 
So, 
      Immaculate and sinless, 
Like 
        A spell, 
                     A flower… 
                                       Roads in hell. 
Or, 
         The will to power. 

Smooth as ravens claws… 
                                            It’ll draw you in.