from #TDK: Of Her

Forlorn struggle; the disconsolate plight,
Crestfallen angel of the techno lie,
Circling abject destiny at the helm,
In the hangdog adventures of a servile quest in the dark,
Among the flagrant escapades of feminine impurity,
Reformed to a red-blooded manner of being,
Desolate concealed realities of inner and outer space,
Unrevealed exotica on the lam,
No longer researched in the unrequited cold light of day,
Unreciprocated hours upon hours,
Enchantment with horns,
Unjust dissent on a roll,
Merciless lack of sentiment with wings,
The glowing appeal of a dark heroine,
Goddess in the making,
Above this forsaking ecstasy lays a claim made for the universe,
And the captivation of dismay,
Playing charades with god,
The heavy gravity of idealism,
A birthright to he who knows himself,
This bright white enticement of a blackened magnetism,
Courting the inclination to have it all, or nothing at all,
Taking the bait of a beloved’s unstable promise,
The indeterminate flux,
The wavering touch & go notions of a relation presupposed,
She invented presumptuous future events in her bent mind,
And self-proclaimed the art of prediction.
She had a solid conviction like a brick tossed through a window with an obstructed view,
She knew she was jumping numbly to a pessimist’s conclusion,
Alluding to a base reality – more of a bore than her current standings,
She was demanding of the storied ending before diving into the thick of the plot,
She was not prudent toward the effects of the future,
Nor too sure of anything save the safety of her seduction.