THE OPEN MIC CYPHER

[UnbornBuddha]

Wormholes of metaphysical poetry
Third eye egotistical potency.
Writing every lyric emotionally
Offering a behemoth my soul to eat.
Implanting revelatory gnosis seeds
Moonlight shining on the Bodhi tree.
The shadow that plays hide and seek
Noumenon too sublime to entirely see.
Success is letting the future idolize me.
A Wall street prophesied being
Ahem, armand de brignac toast
Before the grand finale, where I slit my throat.
Decomposed, a virus scripting code.
Pessimistic dopamine where thinking hurts
Like defining the Broca area in a single word.
I have felt self-destructive since birth;
Identifying myself with it as the chaotic occurs
Kaleidoscopic curse bursting through my optical nerves.
I see your happiness & I just want to mimic your smirk
Become still, blissful, inert.
Waking up with palpations to whistling birds.
It's absurd. What we experience and learn.
Feeling is an illiterate term
That defines the angst that isn't observed.
I'm the pianist whose arthritic fingers hurt
Yet, still plays so you can hear a rhythm undisturbed.
Drifting from my course
Siddhartha envisions my rebirth.
Collecting the most poisonous and bitterest herbs
To cleanse the wounds of my leprosy.
Putative entropy. A chimera to a centipede.
I don't feel I've evolutionized mentally
Just because of the delusion of my entity.
Chemically beautifying my skin,
Scrubbing as a means of purifying my sin.
Substance free, minus the gin
Cigarettes and a bite of your lips.
Vampiric thirst, nibbling on the light of a nymph.
Romanticizing the life of a pimp
Until I see them take the life of a kid.
My iris contain oblivion,
Stygian glimpse of something insidious.
Horrifically punctilious.