The Electric Icarus Project
Navigating Throughout World’s Of Digital Labyrinths…
Life Surfing Highwayman
A black phone, talking to the unknown. Took a walk down a cold desolate road.
A highway connecting states. Empty, being this cold and late.
Hardest when approaching the vessels that pass. Blurs and tracers in teary-eyed glass.
With a scarf to make it above, over, and through. Crossing the bridge, no simple task to do.
Once done, not far to go. The question of knocks was a firm no. The hounds will bark, there is a child we cannot spark.
Having made my quest I remembered that invitation. Worry of the entrance was no limitation.
Gone in, out of the cold. This feeling oddly bold. Upon seeing more, it was decided to take a tour.
Little did I know, this was the spot of the fall and new rise. That would of course, come later as a surprise.
History, being a necessary rewrite. Obviously this gave everyone an awful fright.
From the New Year Eve spent getting lost on that road. Soon enough more of that story will unfold.
It will be wonderful to see, what lies in front of me.
For no matter what, I will survive. Hence my tenacity to stay alive.
When people wonder about the next task, that’s a question that I should probably ask.
Truly I am here to help. Even while people gulp “Welp!”
I am here to share, live, love, and care. I will be here on those days, where I can show these ways.
Doing the best I can. Having returned from that abyss a lost Highwayman…
In The Arm’s Of Midnight…
Hours of Midnight, Spirit’s delight.
Plenty an idea to jolt, during the hand of the Occult.
Problems there to solve. Finding better ways to evolve.
Impress, process, and reinvent, that’s how these hours are spent.
To find the bearings to meet dread. The Holiest fear, aside being dead.
That place in certain one cannot remain. This is why people feel so much pain.
Time’s when simultaneously and all at once, can certainly make you be the dunce.
Part of life’s game we play, as the sun rises each day.
Easing up on that Midnight hand, to create a more Analog Man.
To live digitally during the day, yet functioning while dreaming away.
Those hours the Eye has its shine. Whether here, or away in the mind.
For a dreamer needs not to be asleep nor awake, when deciding to either build or take.
An architect of sorts. Or simply the man going to the door, one of the true escorts.
World Bridger is his game, the name applies the same.
With a tone that is so electric. No wonder it is seen as something eclectic.
Morally guided, unfortunately by Death. Which in turn seals the store of breath.
For the Cosmic Mirror to unfold, those neglected stories that were rarely told.
We cannot confuse stories with the facts. Saturn tends to have a serious problem with that.
Karma, the process that is not always fun. Remember hard before deciding something to be done.
Say how will this affect me not now, but for later history. The one thing that might be neglected to see.
Time’s before where something had you say, “I even ran!” Those fear’s that can get even the bravest man.
Watching the hourglass fill with sand, I remember the Midnight hand. There always to embrace all of us with Luna’s constant grace. Sun to rise in morning once again. Both shine with varying glorious might. Eclipsing each other to bring a coexisting sight.
Hypnogogic Frame Overlook Glasses…
With lens upon lens to filter this place.
The one we occupy called space.
A Venn Diagram of past, future, and now.
People simply confused with the how.
Not the why, or even the when…
Only a complacent everlasting grin.
Hypnagogic always now and here.
This much has become abundantly clear.
It did not come with due time,
this part being a bit sublime.
Knowing now all will be fine,
if we flow in abide utilizing time.
A state is still a place of mind.
Something shared by all humankind.