Explore Drain

I want to sing, I want to sing, to let my voice so loudly ring, to make it known, to make it loud, to have it permeate the crowd! To let my happy soul instill in all your hearts as it can fill, to be the high point of your day, to squeal and shout in such a way that all shall know and all shall care, that all shall never set to dare and question how you feel or how you state... ...to just simply be yourself, a good mate. And to know, so deeply down, that my glee gives you a crown for you to wear, for you to sing, to make your voice so loudly ring... ...to be a happy soul... a king ;-) This poem is copyrighted by me (c) 2022. All rights reserved.

The time has come when I'm alone floating through the cosmos, thoughts guiding my aimless path. The expanse of the void I see is filled with wonder and with fear, for I do not know what I am to do without my moon in its orbit, without that hug of gravity. Perhaps I can try to remember, to force my mind to feel that which isn't there in sight, to have that phantom touch I have so jealously wanted to have. But yet I know how futile that is, for I know my own limits. I know in my own gray cells that the moon shall once again return, but in my beating heart I feel how much I miss that cosmic hug, how much I miss their bright light... Childish as it may be to think such thoughts and to feel such emotions, for I know that the moon is my King and ruler, and not the other way around, yet can I not be forgiven for missing that which has given, which has lightened up so much, and let me see such beauty and happiness I have previously ignored? Surely I am not *that* hopeless? Surely that

It is the paradox of our time despite how technology has grown that within our global paradigm interconnectivity deeply sewn I feel so empty and lost... I feel so singular and alone... Looking at the computer screen or even at my mobile phone convos pass by and between as the server bustles within its zone leaving me behind as exhaust... leaving me singular and alone... Opening a gif from my store spirals spinning monotone mind feebly trying to offshore to prevent that painful groan from my failure to accost... from my being singular and alone... Playing a video from my past where a woman becomes a drone my voice was powerful and vast having invaded her mind's throne leaving the one's volition in frost... leaving the other singular and alone... Surely there must be a way to look beyond the empty tone ringing everywhere my eyes stray trying desperately to hone for how deeply it is embossed... for how I am singular and alone... For how can it be a thing with such ability I have

I've been plagued today with the same unyielding thought, which distracts and leads astray, leaving productiveness naught: a woman mindless on her knees, looking up with eyes glazed over, barely able to say "please" as thoughts simply pushover; and I look down upon her, shocked and turned on by what I see, as I am only able to prefer that this continues further.... deeper.... you and me.... Art thou out there in the world, one who shares this dream? I seek thee so I can be unfurled, so I can finally gleam, so I can finally look upon myself without fear or disgust; and you can be thyself, obedient in every way with trust.... Surely that isn't too much to ask or to otherwise hold hope? Or perhaps I take too much to task and should not mope? Regardless, I will continue in this manner-- I cannot help myself, goddamn-- and if you have been observant you'll know exactly who I am. This poem is copyrighted by me (c) 2022. All rights reserved.

"Drip drop," "drip drop" goes the leaky faucet-- never-ending, non-stop, emptiness deeply cosset-- tear by tear going a-lop further and further away... Thoughts battle to enter and force their way inside, win your mind epicenter, evict emptiness outside; but, as a clever inventor, the faucet is never astray... "Drip drop," "drip drop" goes the leaky faucet-- never-ending, non-stop, emptiness deeply cosset-- tear by tear going a-lop further and further away... As hard as they may try to win the epic struggle, defeat is always nigh collapse always snuggle, for thoughts cannot defy the constant draining relay... "Drip drop," "drip drop" goes the leaky faucet-- never-ending, non-stop, emptiness deeply cosset-- tear by tear going a-lop further and further away... Retreating left and right, as mindlessness instills, thoughts sinking out of sight fading, emptying, no frills just further and further flight out of your conscious sway... "Drip drop," "drip drop" goes the leaky

I've traveled long and far and wide across the lands on every side, because I absolutely love to find that place where I can glide and show you all the beauty of the mind... the beauty and the power of the mind... Up every hill, down every slide, I never seek to lose my stride, because I absolutely love the thrill of winning dignified and showing you the beauty of the mind... the beauty and the power of the mind... And when I reach the countryside, the kingdom opens up outright, and I so resolutely love the images so deeply bright, its landscape like the beauty of the mind... the beauty and the power of the mind... Among the mist you stand, head high, your gaze mesmeric, without lie, and I so resolutely love to look within you and decide just how you view the beauty of your mind... the beauty and the power of your mind... 'Cause you're lovely and you're beautiful, and yes I am excitable, because I absolutely love the chance to be so powerful and show you all the beauty of your