The metal carriage rocks back and forth,
DaVincian means of simply disobeying
Gravity are turned aside, the child-like
Wonder in his eyes is reflected on the
Emerald shores. A literate pen jots and runs as
Eardrums burst and near transparent newspapers
Crinkle and expand. How trivial, it seems,
Modern flight is to those who repel the ground so easily.
Shooting stars and those with stars in their eyes
Transmute desires untold to a notebook.
An iPad is the eye for a generation to lobotomise
And make still the entire world. Forgetful.

I feel nought but apathy for those who
Do not reflect azure sentiment when gazing
Upon the tungsten skies. Tangerine glows beneath
The moonlit clouds, the day burning into the
Æther, a thousand voices silenced. Judgement
Blares through the whistling skies, cerulean ink
Distilling the colours of the world into eight lines
By free verse. Worth of those who pen desires
Unheard of prior to the arrival in Forks, yet
A monochromatic tale of inadequate trust sells further
Than any potent prose or poem put or placed by princely
Or powerful lips. All at once, injustice reeks. All at once,
The subtle snap of sauvignon blanc echoes through the
Plane, the plain planar pilot sweeping to descend. Apathy.

Entropy and avarice and envy, no, empathy, and
Ampersands rock the steel eagle's wings into
An absolutist world of terror. Storm drains
Overflow with typography, discarded ink,
Paper and letterheads filling broken libraries with definite
Falsehoods and uncontrollable contempt. A free
Mind sees the truth that rides on the
Backs of the collective who work, a free mind
Feels the snarl that rolls among the teeth of one
Bourgeois with skin tighter than a cyan tarpaulin
Blanketing the earth. Smothering the grass, yet natural.

Tungsten degrades into luminescent bulbs, the clean
Light pushing cerulean into cobalt into murky
Grunge. Nevermind the wind, ignore the hail
And - most of all - reject and demonise the snow
Lest it be purer than you.
Letters strewn with venom intact, pagest turn and sighs
Escape into the humming, strangling wall of noise.
Linguistic atrophy is considered iconic or desirable by
Authors, declining prose proposed, to penetrate and precisely
Punctuate and pick the pepper, the pied piper
Snatched up before he could blow his first note. Theft.

To explore literature is to be made a fool of.
To criticise the nature of distilling
Romance and eroticism to fifty isolated shades of
Snarling and vengeful drabble, spitting sporadic
And slanting lines before they can rule a
Page. Jet black fumes spew from factory
Heads, lyricism purges and sleek jewelled
Fingers turn the pages of fanfiction glorified.

The rage of a writer scorned cannot main,
Slice or even bruise. The rage of a writer
Scorned burns images and phantasmal caveats into
Idle brains. Ignorance betrays an idle mind
As the skies lose colour, pure white bleeding through
The spacious night sky. Pearlescant displays catch
The richest crimson blood, one nerve betrayed,
Draining the catalyst of its copper essence.

Gold - while elusive - bends and breaks too
Easily. One green back, however, shaping a score of minds.
Tonight, sheep go without their wool, their pallid
Skin pockmarking under the harsh winter winds.
To circumvent a drunken haze is to deconstruct
And demolish frankly fucking awful figments
Of a fanatic's fuming magnum opus. The
Ice dragon thaws, the rage living beneath the
Glacial shell erupts. Indignance.

The purest purple velvet - once a symbol of
Riches untold - now translates clinging hope
To statuses gone farther by than a rooftop
Blaring sound at the Apple Corp.

Charcoal skies flick fickle fingers through
Galilean eyes. A cyclist's career burns, a
Tepid page turns, the metal carriage descends
And he - that who was overcome with the simplest
Childlike wonder - silently weeps for the future
Of words to come. Morning breaks. Mourning.