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Cube Walls by QuentixStarwing
Cube Walls
Cube Walls do not a prison make
bound by madness calls become me
Sacred but lost, taken in by the contemporary
Stolen like a private satchel
Steeled by a gilded cage
Iron bound by heavenly merits
Billed
Burrow
Bury
Bones, made of porcelain are a madness
Sickness that spreads
Breaks and pillages
Shattered and shuffled
Yet never what is needed
Not witnessed or wanted
Not warranted of wishes, but lined with material.
Reading Allen Ginsberg, that is a trip within itself, makes the mind focused and puts you out into another world. For a man who pushed limits then, now, and future, all at once you get a trip that is otherworldy. It is a device that takes over and soon engulfs even the one who tries to observe...soon becoming madness.
Enjoy.
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