An Emaciated Machine


What shall I say

While you’re not around

Whom should I call to

When incapable to make a sound

I was given the keys

But not shown the doors

Travelling with only mysteries

Tolerating peace—eluding wars

My mind the boundless sentinel

The body an emaciated machine

What lies in-between is experimental

A land beyond the seen

I look for no ripostes

I strive for only nihility

For there have been many with hopes

Many less with any capability

Some say I have fought bravely

With sanities so clear

And still yet tremendously poorly

Have I wondered without fear

Some emotions become cursed

So I became a cursed man

I have observed the finest—the worst

Of this intellects land

My body an emaciated machine

All these wiry memories

Never realizing what it wishes to be

This body—this mind—and their histories

Constantly colliding

Rarely abiding

All that I have seen

An apathetic emaciated machine

About glennalias

Looking...Looking...and trying to find...
This entry was posted in Lyretry and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s