The blindness of futility
The secret of sexuality
The man that feels confined
Wants a bit of a way out from his internal prison
To deny the urge
To mock the urge
To love the urge
Celebrity status would seem a funny giggle
To love the one that is seen
To be touched and set free by the one that is love
The man or the woman that sets somebody free in a sexual sense
Would be trapped by their own cyclical desire
You set one too many free in a sexual sense
And that ninth out of tenth person would try and trap the very nature of your soul
The power to heal
Yet those in power would make a living assault on our own personal
Desires
Put my hand on my leg and rub
Watching another guy on a cam
Yet the tower knows all to well the secrets of mens hearts
Yet ignores everyone else
No assault on anything seemingly mainstream
Mainstream because that is how it is financed
Yet the assault continues and figureheads placed before us
Would have us, and make us believe
That we are a hellbound race
A detested form of being
Everywhere you look is a simple broadcasted train of thought
Leading you farther away from yourself
Leading you into an abyss of sadness
An abyss of madness
An abyss of pure tackyness
Abyss of nastiness
Where the one you are arranged to be with would know your inner secrets of your heart
The one you are kept away from would watch from a distance on an emotional plane
The war on ourselves and the war on our soulmates
The figurative philosophy that one would finance the killing of each persons soulmate
So that they may feel empty
And without power
And submit
& die.
They wouldn’t die a real death
They would die inside
Their soul would know
THEY would feel pain
And not know where
The pain comes from
Then when that soul that is arranged to be theirs shows up
Abuses them and dissatisfies them, makes them feel useless
They would accept this fate
They would accept many more hidden fates
They would sink inside, they would lose their lenses
They would give in
They would feel no guilt
They would hide behind money and hidden lusts
Properties, family, what they wear, what they own
The diamond they wear
They would die for every day lived in this lie
If this heavily financed realm continues
Every beings soulmate will be replaced
The buying and trading continues
Of whom should own your package
Whom should own your psychic mind
Whom should own your future
The barter continues
While you seemingly live in a forgotten world
A lonely world
Left alone with your thoughts to wonder
About who is guiding you from the other side.
- Shaun A. Delage