The Stain of Ink's Reign

The delight in my own hindsight is my forever cadent release for the joy of Minds sight;

Always reaching, Never dwelling, Grasping pieces and parts in my fractal heart!
A blessing to bless, A curse to receive the pain and hurt from all the wounded minds enslaved to the pretense of the Biased Ideals of Tyranny.

The delight of my foresight sees that in time and with careful deed;
The truth construed and misconstrued as it is and will be.
A creed? A jealous power plea? A rendition to render Truth?!

I commit all the sins of my envious desire;
And that which passion allows;
Do not I!
Parade about,
spreading the Good cheer of my works and cited for all to know!

The secrecy of my soul,
the blood spattered splash of my minds eye canto of Rhyme!
All in vain? Is it the curse,
of Vanity? Will it be forever blotted?!
Through the Celestial cries of an Innocent Child!?

Never thinking!
Always indenting!
Pretentious and Precarious Premeditated adaptations!
This is the Higher Learning.

Growing, Setting Forth, Things Seen!
and that of the Unknown.
Inherently I work in the Dark,
To spark and ignite the Fuel for The Reckoning to come about!
Slowly,
I caress my perspective of Thine delicious delight;
Rite of Written Rights!

In the power of words are my fluidity becoming a Solidity;
If only for the Moments Time Past....
They retain the Moment of the Illusion that has Passed.

Centuries will come and Go;
Immortal!
They will retain the,
Words and Smitten Smote of The Captivating Phrases!

The Clenching Fist;
Nervously Reacting, The Brain Signals the Finger of Triggers!
To Pull!
The Bolt and Spring Releasing the Trigger Spilled Bullet!

Upon the mark remains a Wine Colored Rose of Liquid Blood.
Killing, Once, Forever Remain in the Memories of The One Who Holds his Blood Spattered Gun.

The Bullet Will Kill Once!
Words Upon Phrases Knows No Bounds!
For, They Have the Power of The Ink!




The Ink will pass down the centuries blood spattered hate;
Misinterpreted fanatics they are, Claiming Rite and the Name of the Creator!
But this Ink will live on, From Dusk till Dawn, Centuries Ago and Centuries Come.
These words, Misconstrued and Interpreted;
Wish and Will They May!
But Never Knowing;
The Dream Once Spent by the Man behind the Ink.

A dream they will see;
A Vision they will destroy;
For this was to be a creation.
And Why is it I see Destruction?



Love;



Sebastciaun T. Censtcuriaus