Before it all begins there is light
This light triggers a reaction
This reaction, our reaction, my reaction...
Is the Synesthesia of Truth
Truth starts in the head, lets gravity become the best
Of it
Dragging it down, down, down-
One.
The heart ceases to beat,
Its fatal attempt at pumping blood
Through its host
Two.
A coat of armor melts,
Taking flesh and bone with it
The reverse of a Phoenix's rebirth
Three.
The host becomes the bearer of its consequences.
His mind screams, "Listen to my Synesthesia of Truth!"
Color becomes sound, sound becomes taste, taste becomes color
Four.
The Synesthesia of Truth has cleansed the Beast.
YOU ARE READING
Phobia: Edge Me
PoetryA collection of poems to pass the time. All poems are written by me.
