The Porter

I could bend the genius' course Could give wisdom to the blunt But I doubt they would be grateful One wish, a breeze to blow over the shelves and piles of souvenirs If only they would come to see Knowing ages pass before a tree Will spoil us with complexity They'd be worth a hall of memories But it's fools I deal with day and night Fools that only come for short insight Though all of past hence waits In sanctity's sweet embrace. Hear my song of reverence To the precious gifts that countenance To clamber high and dig so deep And seek what everyone should seek. It's him again - the sullen - With eyes in envy's mist and woe Out for refuge in a glimpse of bliss. A short delusion A frenzy grasp at nothingness A frenzy grasp at nothingness… Echoes pound so loud in me Voices longing for tranquility A course is set for stormy seas Leading through the hall of memories But it's fools I deal with day and night Fools that only come for short insight Though all of past hence waits In sanctity's sweet embrace. I could bend the genius' course Could give wisdom to the blunt But I doubt they would be grateful.

Submitted by The Void — Apr 25, 2025

Nothing is. Nothing is free. Nothing is free from boundaries. The grand hatch has been spoiled Fed and spoiled with binaries. In eternal duality From one to another absolute. She drags her burden to the cunning To seek her sermon's sequel lot One step back to from where she's coming Once suffered from, it can't be given back. Freedom must be - But maybe not. Maybe secure, maybe not. As nothing is — nothing will be Ever binary to the core. In eternal duality From one to another absolute. She drags her burden to the cunning To seek her sermon's sequel lot Absolution comes as a stunning illusion That tears her heart apart. This parasital redeemer Spoils the poor with significance Throws blessings upon the contempt and feeble And strains the shrewd with hesitance

Submitted by VladTheImpaler666 — Apr 25, 2025