THE OPEN MIC CYPHER

UnbornBuddha · 05-29-2015, 08:36 AM

Problems are but undefined thoughts in an array of colors
The heartbreak of lovers makes me star gaze in wonder
Getting lost in chaos, similar to what a scarred brain is under
The Library of Alexandria destroyed is the heart pain of scholars
Our present state is but a dematerialized past
Fragments and scraps of what we memorized massed
With every recollection, our neural butterflies dance.
Life’s purpose can be summarized as:
Composites of viewpoints searching for a compass
Navigating through the world, learning of more objects
As what was once foreign becomes commonplace
Along the nostalgic way our very own collage is made
Various wounds accrued to tell the tale of falling from grace.
Hauling the trace of every summer shade, every naked lover draped
Every thunderous pouring rain that turned the sky’s aura ablaze
Next day, inspiring our corneas to witness the rainbows forming in place
It’s like this,
An avid listener of opera carries unknowingly every opera chorus made.
The new age will never be as sacred,
As the whore that refrains from spreading her viral sores for wage
In this act, lies the source of grace.
The true guru tires of all the mindful nonsense,
He finds it to be dreadfully mind numbing
Reading between lines does not provide the wider context
That’s a literary fib, so take a seat, and let your brain release
Loss of data feed means drifting about aimlessly
Pondering how the universe came to be used to make you glee
Just erasing that one thought makes you as insane as me
Free from chasing something only the crazy reach.

05-29-2015, 08:36 AM	#11
UnbornBuddha Senior Member Join Date: Jul 2014 Posts: 1,008 Battle Record: 23-10 Champed - Art of Writing League - AOWL Season 5 Rep Power: 23856379	Problems are but undefined thoughts in an array of colors The heartbreak of lovers makes me star gaze in wonder Getting lost in chaos, similar to what a scarred brain is under The Library of Alexandria destroyed is the heart pain of scholars Our present state is but a dematerialized past Fragments and scraps of what we memorized massed With every recollection, our neural butterflies dance. Life’s purpose can be summarized as: Composites of viewpoints searching for a compass Navigating through the world, learning of more objects As what was once foreign becomes commonplace Along the nostalgic way our very own collage is made Various wounds accrued to tell the tale of falling from grace. Hauling the trace of every summer shade, every naked lover draped Every thunderous pouring rain that turned the sky’s aura ablaze Next day, inspiring our corneas to witness the rainbows forming in place It’s like this, An avid listener of opera carries unknowingly every opera chorus made. The new age will never be as sacred, As the whore that refrains from spreading her viral sores for wage In this act, lies the source of grace. The true guru tires of all the mindful nonsense, He finds it to be dreadfully mind numbing Reading between lines does not provide the wider context That’s a literary fib, so take a seat, and let your brain release Loss of data feed means drifting about aimlessly Pondering how the universe came to be used to make you glee Just erasing that one thought makes you as insane as me Free from chasing something only the crazy reach.