So many children were screaming into the void
That the void got frustrated and threw the cacophony back
Resulting in an aural tsunami that came crashing over my consciousness
Undercutting the foundation of my sanity
Giving me a sonic lobotomy
Gone was any chance of getting anything done
Between the covers lives a synergy of two consciousnesses
Obviously that of the author, but also that of the reader
Organically melding into a reality neither has full control over
Keeping both guessing how it will turn out
I am synthesizing information in an attempt to immolate my brain cells, allowing me to warm my frozen thoughts about the subject, yet the thaw has yet to come. I huddle in obscurity, surrounded by obscenities used, but not forgotten, built up to keep me from seeing my failure from the outside.
Still hope tries to grow inside though it hasn’t seen the light of inspiration or the nourishing rain of success in so long it might as well be on the dark side of the moon. Should I just collapse this rhetoric into a black hole of consciousness?
Cutting away the final dross, Andros looked at his creation
Absolutely perfect was the only way to describe it
Still something nagged at him from the corners of his consciousness
That’s when he realized he forgot to give her arms!