Eyeball

Solitary orb of vision, succulent in aspiration, thrusting towards a ridiculous rapture. You detach yourself with a disconcerting pop, leaving a wretched cadaver behind. Why this condescension? Eyeball, eyeball, half your universe lies sorrowfully blind. Beware the whirring wheel of predestination; someday you must embrace samsara as the sweetest sensation. What shall I make of you, O you acolyte of false glories! Clamour all you will, for your hunkies and dories. Whatever ascends must someday face the canyon; snakes and ladders ever make the sweetest companions. Vamoose, I have seen too much, the acidic prints of reality’s impressions a cancer to my soul. Truth be told, I can take this no longer, every vibration a tragic chord strung on my harp. Music, supreme master of therapy, slowing tearing me apart.