Midnight in Tokyo.

Walk in the street

In my memories,

And breaking down

The masked self.

Yelling profanity,

Screaming destiny.

Warped sensuality.

How was I to know

The part you won't show.

The wonderful self

You may hide

The unbridled passion

You keep inside.

My true blue

Sensual lover,

Our connection

Is strong yet fragile,

I would never mention it.

Not in public

I'd keep it hidden

Perhaps from even you

Because that's what

Secret lovers do.

I cannot compromise

My glowing pride

Even in the hope

That you share it too.

Wrap your arms around me,

Pretend that you don't care.

Show everything in nothing,

So your heart does not snare.

I understand everything,

Yet I ache for you, I do.

I'll keep everything to myself

Since I am stronger than you.

One request

This day,
like all other days,
is founded by memories.
memories of what I see
memories of what I feel
and memories of what I hear,
combining to what is real,

and like so many other days,
written on judgement books,
I find myself asking,
what did I do?
what have I done?
where did I go?

my mind has built
a thousand and one frustrations,
mostly for myself;
crimes committed
against my perpetual state of mind,
mostly dreams collecting dust,
anger misguided and misplaced;
maybe.

or is it all lies I tell myself
to create a life
to assure others I think.
maybe there are no thoughts.
Only my mind creates them
to assure myself I do maintain conventions.

The only real wish I had for my life,
was wisdom,
divinely granted
as I am sure the Only can do.
I am divided among my many selves
as to explain this indelible request,
so that I can be most assured
the Only has blessed me with it.

the communication in my mind goes mute,
for I cannot answer the whether or.
wisdom is not something that can
be explained so easily,
and there lies the irony.

perhaps it is simply,
peace of mind,
quieting the voices
which echo through the hollows,
and unifying them to a single purpose,
so I can find a sense of calm among the storm.

-Sigma

Split Personality

These ancient pathways I walk,

The directness of them.

The evolutionary stages of my kind

The indirectness of some.

I'm wont to become the Wise man

I was in previous lifetimes

So these questions in my head

Could be answered by him.

He could reason with the animal in me

That bays only under cloak of drink,

Scars the rest of me

And disintegrates my entire being, slowly.

ーーーーーー

I wish for once in a lifetime,

That profoundness and clarity

Came to me holistically.

Trembled the inner branches of my tree.

Silenced the animal that speaks to me.

So that the locus of my soul,

Could form my own personal ideology.

I'd never bend an ear in the direction of suggestion.

I could rely solely on the whispers

Of the eternal me.

Blended into the cosmic light

Bathed in the truth of sanctity.

It's easier to divide this lifetime into infinite lifetimes 

And separate yourself to many forms, to give answers.

Yet, by being undone, we miss that which is.

The clarity of simplicity,

Cannot be temporal ecstasy.

Can only be

The bellow of infinity.