The Alien
Listen to the sonorous tones
of silence secluded in sighs,
Blind to every sight of reality,
with kaleidoscope vision and spider
eyes.
Revisions perfected the proper
cocktail
for soaring with earth beneath my
stance.
For the chance of painting smells and
sounds
with Gomez chanting my trance:
"Get miles away.
Get miles away.
Get miles away.
Get miles away."
And this skin I live in is alien,
blemished with spots of ineffable
taint.
Born brown but painted a soulless
elated,
frustrated in the most creative of
ways.
And my days are strangers to me
now.
Somehow, light falls short of bright,
until my heartbeat offers me genius.
But the others, the symptoms,
frighten
me into a state of absolute
fascination.
Hallucinations teaching me that the
road less traveled is a cross country
course.
But my voice is my breath, and I
need not exhale to communicate or
arrive.
"Get miles away.
Get miles away.
Get miles away.
Get miles away."
And this extraterrestrial body of
power,
accompanied by celestial bodies I
devour,
give my mind sustenance, and I
maintain
a connection of thought that
surpasses brain,
And find myself too evolved to
cower.
Yet the ominous tone that projects
my mood,
is merely my mortal attitude,
For what is angst if not the
experience
my eyes so deftly exude?
But I escape within the rape of my
own senses
and relate to validity of my own
defenses,
which become nothing more than
variations
of suspense, for acknowledging my
predisposed madness.
And the sadness abates like pain,
Only to regain its sense of reign,
over everything I choose to withhold
from caption.
"Get miles away.
Get miles away.
Get miles away.
Get miles away."
And I brim with eternal ice,
As thrice rings the hell bell
that summons my darkest persona
home.
Alone, because I despise the faces I
see,
who are rarely elevated to the places
I be,
when creative spark ignites my
passion
for words and verse with more fuel
than flame.
"And I insane?" asked the novel to
the editor?
"Be I deranged" To: the prey From:
the predator?
And never more shall I be labeled
"okay"
For today is the birth of validation,
A loud voice with no pretext or
hesitation,
No biased due to respect of
affiliation,
For will shall supersede human
limitations,
And grant to me a world only I can
see,
With vague advice to the few who
could compare to me:
"Get miles away.
Get miles away.
Get miles away.
Get miles away."
Copyright ©
Audonus Taylor
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