Matrix of silent reality.

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From the empty silence I steal away the depths of reality and wrap them in white cotton to bury deep beneath the freezing ground. The echo of existence whispering to me the secrets of humanity and in this silence I know the answers are to be found. Solid ice thaws to the trending escapism of a pixelated Neverland unbound by the rules of society. We are whatever we say we are until the cloak falls and the darkness seeps away and no longer are we hidden by our reality. The beauty of the chaos theory fluttering the wings of now pulling at the threads of fate. The matrix code becomes intertwined and woven between the souls of the dead that believe they are the living whilst the puppeteer engineers every connection that we make. I ponder who are the wise when we are the empty spirits of an old mans philosophy. Haunting beliefs that follow us through the streets of serenity. If autonomy is the devils whisper then I choose you without reproach, i’ll lead you into temptation and wear my heart as though a broach. But reality is a fallacy a facade of broken dreams and in the silence I will find what reality means.

 

Karen Hayward 2016

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