the distant signal

behold my spirit..

feelings are measured

flux of qualm

dare to differ

take cover in mud

silence speaks of deceit

Dissidence? no blasphemy

silenced

recurrently pinion(ed) to the mast

boat of free speech

bound to destiny still

in reception of a calling

savant I am of progress, of perverse

weakly patched up tears through which my tears swear

obsolete, oxymoron-adhesive

within dusty chambers

in between transcending pillars

snared to the point of collapse

meld under waves of silence, of chaos

perpetuated

flawless prophecy

we are the distant signal

we are but raging opinions

biased vulgar judgements

nightmare to contradictions

vector behind gears, of greatness

we are heard from but afar

Author's Note

screams growls grunts spiteful yells.. you'd love to hear this.. if you roll like I do
p.s. pinnion"ed" does not exist in the English dictionary