without thought

I lost my imagination,
Nine thousand years ago,
As I crawled along,
Through shards of misery,
On bloodied knees and callused hands,
Searching for the elusive light,
At the end of the proverbial tunnel,
Leaving the virgin world of sanity behind,
Falling, falling, falling,
Through a kaleidoscope,
Of past lives,
“I once was a werewolf but I’m ok nowwwwwwwwwwwww,”
The mighty hand of redemption,
Grasping me like a vice,
By the skull,
Seeking my repentance,
For it thought I was under conviction,
Searching forgiveness,
For past sins,
Of lives I can’t even remember,
My skeleton screams in agony,
As my hidden thoughts are squeezed,
From my subconscious,
Through the tips of my fingers,
Onto my rejuvenated skin,
I am a walking verse,
Waiting to be read,
But only by those who have entered,
The asylum of my mind,
I have left my imagination behind,
Hidden in the streets of Nazareth,
Outside a fish mongers hovel,
My skull cracks,
My brain pulls itself out,
As if being born by itself,
Alone in a desolate world,
Running and hiding in the abyss,
For fear of recapture by me,
For I am the straw man,
Only the road is red and black,
No gold in sight,
With ink and blood,
Wondering what gibberish I will pen upon,
My tortured soul next,
As the dream ends,
Only for a second,
My sanity returns,
The fall is over,
For I have landed within,
The midst of humanity,
My brain now begging for acceptance,
I no longer need a brain,
As I cast it into,
The forgotten thoughts of dead bards,
As they linger on the shores of Wizard lake,
Waiting for acceptance from higher powers,
This world that as captured me,
Looks so bleak and desolate,
It’s only a matter of time,
Before it self destructs,
A brain will just slow me down,
Toying with my insanity,
I gather my skeleton,
Who as been searching,
For his fifth metacarpal,
With out luck,
For he lost his eyes a thousand years ago,
We left without it,
My soul wailed in agony,
Driving me to the brink of sanity,
A place I felt uncomfortable in,
He wanted to return to the land I left behind,
With the help of the skeleton,
I chained and shackled the useless entity,
And locked him in the depths of my mind,
Which cursed me for shunning my brain?
We journeyed for nine thousand years,
Searching for understanding in this land of torment,
Created by those who dwelt here?
All I wanted was good paper and a quill,
All I got was dried out skin and fresh blood,
Not only was I a walking verse,
I was now hard to read,
For the original story had been written over,
For skin was scarce,
When you traveled with a skeleton,
Forty seven times my soul tried to escape,
Forty seven times I buried it deeper,
Within my insanity,
It’s much easier to live upon this planet,
Without thought,
Even the great thinkers and bards,
In the end,
Eventually rid themselves of thought,
And write their final stories from the heart,
The brain was built to think,
The heart was built to write,
A simple man can say whatever he wants,
For his thoughts are simple,
If only I had a soul who did not want release?
Until I had no use for the body,
And began my search once again for a different home,
Amongst the stars,
Maybe in the next life,
Sanity will prevail…

without thought

Rocky Loder

Joined April 2009

  • Artist
  • Artwork Comments 32

Artist's Description

inspire by a comment…on a story i had written called…dream catchers….simple man …simple words…simple thoughts…

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