Inhuman Serenade

All cloth from the same line, that twists, turns, tangles and divides
All fabric from the same material, immaterial by some, non the less, aside from side.
All lines, that build for something, to separate and build again.

If this is the answer to all that is held, for immaterial to unreal so it seems.
The illusion that cast aside, to abide to this inaction, that paved way to nigh.
Containment and contagion; constrain the offense, as the offended cares for none.

Inaction as made the way inert, for every action seems for futile reasons.
While we scribe down for lost, forgotten words, the epitaph unheard.
Lacerate the words into the world walls, create this illusion of madness.

Say that everything is vain, that vulgarity will compromise.
As it strikes at the core, the solution seems to fade an infant at mind remains.
For all the words the world could take, none other take the meaning of names.

Escalate the solution, leave the trail of insensitive senses.
Exclaim, you could get the solution, if the problem existed at all.
Carve for the exit, the denial of hand to hand.

Assimilate and enslave, for the sands flowed to the desert and nothingness became void.
Devoided the sight, clashed with the ethereal nightmare, the flight that was the word.
Grasp, squeeze, strangle.

Write down the words, define the laws.
Take the back-road to altar grandeur.
For a spoken word may cast a shadow.

Bastet’s charms, casts no shade.