Chaos Inside A Pen

Too many visions wrapped in electric dreams. Exit eyes; enter mind. Neon lights bleed for the first time upon the penetration of wires. A reality where nothing is real, can somebody give a hint if there someone in the mask or another mask awaits the stripper and another one until vagueness become the truth? A ghost inside the machine, stored in a disc running for 60 to 80 years. Burn by lasers scarred with needles a montage of pixels called memories flash in crack screen. Rewinding, Stop and Fast Forward; all data will be lost. Nothing can be save. We are bound to be deleted one click away. Now the rain is glistening against the bright red lanterns. Like tongue of fire spit by heaven but no one is looking above. Nobody dreams of paradise anymore. A set of letters and numbers, a cord in the brain, coitus of codes and consciousness. Downloading Nirvana requires an illuminated eye by the luste...

Image Source: National Park Service ( https://www.nps.gov/index.htm ) Days of meteor rain claws of light scratching the black skin of space silently scraping the hole, the lesion the wound in a memory across a light years of heartbeat. Aching blue moons remember the musing of sorrow. Frozen tears hang around the nebulae. Sad sigh of a dying galaxy still waiting for them to fall. The starts are waltzing against the ebb of gravity. Dimming like tired eyes. Here I am watching until the universe wept it all. Everything will always fall leaving with bright scars that time won’t heal that darkness can’t seal. Previously posted at BestPoetry https://www.bestpoetry.website/