The Black Gloss

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
Excerpt from "Flanuer; Trois ans".

Submitted: September 10, 2016

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Submitted: September 10, 2016



I see the gloss, I see it swirling, creating worlds with every hurling.

I see hope plain in view while I sit and am lectured by a didactic hue.

I begin to think of dark, and how light comes from it's other side; I realize that this is where I know I can pragmatically reside.

Now let me paint a picture: I see blues, greens, reds, and yellows and through all of this humanity is just saying it's hellos.

Thunderstorms of unimaginable size striking down streaks of tremendous sighs, as if from a god of depression, but these storms face only oppression.

So of you I ask, Let them be, and please let them rage quickly; as the only one they will rain upon, is me.

This struggle I will make gladly and also sadly for the effects of my transcendence will not land within true independence.

I write these letters as words of hope, a dark crashing sea abandoned except for one boat.

The soot raining down is a sign of an end, the thing on which new beginnings depend.

I feel the rich warm mineral air pass by me; I stand there in euphoria, the fear I felt before becomes my only friend as I become a blend of fiery red and golden molten yellow.

I feel as if... I am in the creation of something bigger than ever before, if there was no such thing as importance you'd still realize this was worth more.

I am stuck here; where I know the few people fear the decision that is iridescently clear.

The choice is mine, The time is near.

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