Aphorism of a dead artist

I. Living

Stereotyped sitcoms, daft noises
This is us!
What’s for breakfast?
“Eminem “
Lukin like Britney, whatsoever Spears
Angst written all over…
“Outcast”
“Outcast”
Into the maddening crowd
The horde of pop culture
Gasoline prices have hiked,
Waning chances to travel further
Amplifying the sound of hate…
The colored banner now on display,
We cry for a revolution!
Whilst shaking hands with the devil.
We still breathe, through cracked remnants of the day.

Inside the fissure of nothingness
Everything is bliss

II. Death

“Check mate” grins the devil
All that burns is the candle
Into the dead night
Into the subversive blindness
Into the unbearable lightness of oblivion

Inside the fissure of nothingness
Everything is bliss

III. Absolution

Cast out from the haloed scrutiny
The candle, long thawed
Memory ebbs!
Existence looses to extinction
Fossil of past splendor
We hope for the colored banner!
We hope for the waking dream…

Inside the fissure of nothingness
Everything is bliss