Every day the cogs turn. They turn and turn and turn. Some stop from diuse. Some, from damage of metal. Some cease to be and others fade into being.. All the little cogs that make up me and my ATP. All the cogs, springs and gears; pinnions, Suns, and Planetaries; all these little things in my head turn and turn again.
The voices in my head, the voices in my head will be there untill my lifes been fully tread... They'll be there in my head when I'm in my bed. They'll be there along the gears that srping along my skull and through my bone.
The Cogs in my head.
Thats what I want to show, Here they are, let's see how they blow.
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A little poem to go with the peice. This is my final porject for art-class. it was done and people loved it. They wanted to look more into the layers, and to be honest. This peice is not even done folks. It will be worked on again at some point. Somepoint when the cogs and gears have time to slow down, to give out what they are.
At the moment, I have to work, I work two jobs, I'm trying my best to do so and all it ammounts to, is pain, pain, and more pain. But it'll gain soon enough.... Just wait. You'll see. ;)
Keywords
male
1,178,671,
feline
148,606,
ink
5,490,
pencil
5,095,
abstract
1,395,
marker
1,119,
acrylic
451,
clock
437,
mainecoon
204,
gears
182,
pendulum
128,
azmond
105,
minimal color
13,
hair spring
1
Details
Published:
8 years, 8 months ago
08 Apr 2016 21:23 CEST
Initial: daab312e7a14f702f750aba4ffe5dccc
Full Size: cd76ed2cb58ae5c4a558f135c28eaca0
Large: df162cdaab78959197d2a72cedf337eb
Small: 942da4c3c4403e352ac32edcbfb01e83
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