The land makes me uncomfortable;
each crooked branch hooking plants
and their stance stands to make me
look at man.

Each strand of hair waves at a blade of grass,
feeding off the dead.
Seething in my head
instead of screaming into the mass of land.

Dead field; tombstones protruding,
next wheel in a loom only using
hands to make a blanket
to cover the globe.
  
Against a grey tree, lately
it seems that I will be little more than
a flayed piece of meat making
an imprint in the mud.

Stood shivering, simmering blood,
red face on black cloud.
Nothing still, killing time
while time does likewise.

Broken angels and idols of old
hold idle fables that watch me grow cold.
Names erased in the moss,
lost in the face of the earth.

x

x

When it comes to strong form
When angles are always precisely norm
Grows an alluring mathematically touched creation
Inspired by pure calculated scientific divination
Such an alluring symmetry to behold
Causing the circle’s envy to unfold

For this angled beauty’s strength enforced
Its sold core mass equally divorced
It’s rigid looks captivating us all
Luring architects to its enchanting call
Ancient Greek hands carving stone shrines
Securing their beauty for all times

Its slight outer angles enduringly tease
Yearning us to brush with ease
Who came up with such design?
Was it indeed a gift divine?
However it did come to be
We all can enjoy with glee

Well all but rectangle and square
As they sulk with envious glare
Murmuring curses over hexagon’s slight curve
Endlessly plotting to mathematicians they serve
Scheme upon scheme developed to suppress
The sheer allure designed to impress

Despite all this the hexagon persists
Engaging us all in mathematical trysts
Never will we lose an eye
No matter how hard we try
For the beauty a hexagon reigns
Over the kingdom of geographical gains

Forget not what you see here
Our ancestors have made it clear
Line upon line attached in twine
Measured precisely from sips of wine
The hexagon is a wonder indeed
Allowing us our own mounted steed

do you ever get that feeling of unease
brought on by fog so thick you can't see the trees
where even in the shadows angels fear to tread
and every drip drop drip falls in time to primal dread
the air is chill
my heart is still
as creeping fingers of frost slither down my spine
freezing my core in the eerie winter lunar shine
but these racing thoughts take dark wing
to the coal black raven's discordant song

Sinful bliss on an endless kiss
Ideal kiss on a sinful bliss
Now kiss me sinfully

Feel my sinful bliss
Unwind my sinful heart’s kiss
Lull me to my true heart’s bliss