The thoughts rise up, garbled and confused,
A decaying signal,
Losing power as it travels through the air.
At first strong and clear, becoming distant.
Corrupted and fading into static.
White noise and ambient sound,
Pressing and pushing against the walls of my mind,
Trying to burst open my head, like some exotic fruit.
Leaving its core exposed, left to rot and decompose.
my mind resembles the waterways of Venice,
My thoughts like gondolas,
matrices of thought and desire,
Flowing and melting,
as if now only water, under the bridge of intellect,
And out of my consciousness.
The sounds loop around each other,
Merging, becoming one, until this is all I can hear,
All I can perceive.
Sight failing, touch now unreal.
Smell and taste confused,
My unconsciousness conspires to destroy my conscious,
Deleting all traces of this weak signal, as it decays,
Until I am just a collection of electrical impulses firing,
Within a cerebrum. Now I fancy that I can almost feel it,
As those electrical impulses begin to fail,
My mind beginning to fade, Yes;
fading from loud, active and vibrant,
Strong and powerful, roaring,
Dropping in tone and pitch,
Frail silent, whimpering,
Dead.
I can feel every inhale and exhale I make,
feel the neurons in my brain,
I actually feel the electrical impulses fire,
I can see everything, with a clarity that burns me,
reducing me to ashes.
Hastening the process of dissolution,
Making me even more unreal,
until like the setting of the sun,
I am gone, forever.
Adam Stuart Pick 2007
A decaying signal,
Losing power as it travels through the air.
At first strong and clear, becoming distant.
Corrupted and fading into static.
White noise and ambient sound,
Pressing and pushing against the walls of my mind,
Trying to burst open my head, like some exotic fruit.
Leaving its core exposed, left to rot and decompose.
my mind resembles the waterways of Venice,
My thoughts like gondolas,
matrices of thought and desire,
Flowing and melting,
as if now only water, under the bridge of intellect,
And out of my consciousness.
The sounds loop around each other,
Merging, becoming one, until this is all I can hear,
All I can perceive.
Sight failing, touch now unreal.
Smell and taste confused,
My unconsciousness conspires to destroy my conscious,
Deleting all traces of this weak signal, as it decays,
Until I am just a collection of electrical impulses firing,
Within a cerebrum. Now I fancy that I can almost feel it,
As those electrical impulses begin to fail,
My mind beginning to fade, Yes;
fading from loud, active and vibrant,
Strong and powerful, roaring,
Dropping in tone and pitch,
Frail silent, whimpering,
Dead.
I can feel every inhale and exhale I make,
feel the neurons in my brain,
I actually feel the electrical impulses fire,
I can see everything, with a clarity that burns me,
reducing me to ashes.
Hastening the process of dissolution,
Making me even more unreal,
until like the setting of the sun,
I am gone, forever.
Adam Stuart Pick 2007
