I am branded perfect.
But it is imperfections
that make me feel alive.
a fantasy
these are reoccurring figments
of ones imagination.
an escape from the real.
military occupation of my world
operation freedom of the mind
a reminder of whats a dream
in a empty heart beat.
Perfection is a habit
shrouded in the dark recesses
of my reality
that can be seen clear as daylight.
Yet you are not real.
You cant be real.
The magnetic pulses I get when I touch You
is nothing but stray static electricity.
I have to go back
to Reality.
A Sip of the Holy Grail
- E.T.G.
- "...& then the clouds parted and riding down a stray beam of light in the land of pure darkness twas the one & only, who is braver than a hundred lions, wiser than a thousand goats, a mac in a million times a million...EMAC The Great." That was mentioned by some guy from a crowd when I was born...in my dreams. See...now you've come to understand just why I'm already cooler than you. In any case, I bring upon you the RAGE! & Reign of Great Music, Great Women, Great Art & Great Laughs. May you suffer the inevitable in peace.
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