The American Wasteland

Howl deep into the American night.
Shaken and embraced by this patriotic wasteland.
Sitting sullen in the dark corners of bars.
I saw you.
The candle lit the silkiest sadness in your eyes.
I knew the gentle thunder of you would send me to a paradise I have so often witnessed, but never delve deep enough to kiss.
Falling again, into the comforting shadows.
Where the demons whisper and caress me.
They fill me with reveries and rages, never imagined in the rose garden.
Never perceived in the American dream.
I walked silently through the dampened pavements.
Contemplating the smells of liquor and gray smoke.
Dreamily wondering through the beautiful wasteland.
Howling, what it means to be oppressed by the figures of beauty.
Tormenting my own tired mind with small wonders.
What must it be like to belong to no one, yet belong to everyone.
Intrigued by these bitter thoughts, I sung.
I have indulged in selfishnesses so magnanimous even the eidolons were brought to tears.
The capabilities of man are only fictions until they manifest beautifully into the actions of the wicked.
Vastly wicked am I.
For I will steal, I will deceive, and I will strike hard and fast.
For I know the exquisite sensations of loneliness and unrequited love.
I know the Velvet wonder of rejection.
I have done my best make up and sat in my car for hours.
Howling silently at the hipsters clad in their pretentious gilded cages.
Arrogantly walking without sight.
Strange and lovely is my American wasteland,
my American dream.

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