Raptures of Succubi

Inside my mind there is a place that stays away from discovery to the outside world. Sometimes people try to read it all, but they can never.

Just think of how many words I waste before I'm understood, how many moments are lost in flailing speech for society when everything that needs to be done occurs in the supernova of the mind.

This is a place I can do no wrong, a place where judgement is left to the beholder. Why does someone want to know what doesn't concern them? Life's an open book, the mind a never ending canvas to the soul, bared to the most truthful of all - myself.

People ask why and why not, I'm afraid the answer lies in being in transported to a land of the free, a land of unknown possibilities, to a place away from here, unspoilt by the soiled trod a human foot. A land where I am king, and my queen is my thought, where the subjects of my court are the most hated foes of society.

Do you see what I see? You see truth as a virtue, I see it as a silent offender. You can never hear what I hear, never see what i see. You live in this convoluted colony and shut out your imagination. You believe in the lies that rule your world, the lies that dictate your future, the lies that make you a fallen hero, the lies that build your castles and the lies that sleep in your graves.

When the world is burning, everyone walks away, so why trust in someone that only trusts in fear? Distress makes you express what you want to take and who takes it from you. Everything on the face is absurd - they talk about a constitution of free speech and expression, then pray, tell me why society looks upon me as vermin?

Sometimes I feel cheated of my youth, this lie was turned into truth. Churning visions of all that was, now mixed in a cauldron of nightmares that kill the thought of happiness. Sadness used to walk these barren lands, now it's long forgotten and despised. Everything is inconsequential except that which is most precious to you - your thought of where, what, when and how you want to live your own life. How does it make sense to live according to societal convenience, when all that you're doing is providing oral sex to the administrators of destruction?

Maybe tomorrow is a better day, and maybe yesterday was the best. Maybe today is the day I remember most, because in my mind, the world holds no place, the heart tells no tales and a spiritual moment is experienced that can never come close to anything that man has to offer in reality or in his false existence. When you walk beside me, you walk alone.