Hath mighty gods placed ye among the stars?
Those heavenly eyes that gaze down at us?
Those stitchings of ethereal pale scars?
Nay, I see the moon only, its beams combust.

Wherefore art thou the one we don't deserve?
Thou shouldst be soaring as an angel soars.
Then I would espy, if I had the nerve.
And you'd tear my mask, the one I once wore.

Wouldst thou grace me with thine beauty, seraph?
or wouldst thou blind me with effervescence?
Wouldst thou judge me, in hand your black tariff?
Or wouldst thou make mineself evanescent?

For now, I dream within my dream, my love.
And I glance upward, smiling at you above.

When daylight left and sky turned black,
we returned to our warm and cozy shack
to find, Oh my! The light left on
after several months of the two of us gone.

The bulb burned bright a gentle glow,
feeding the flowers that near the window did grow.
Without a Sun the lilies would die,
but the bulb gave light through the dark, cold night.

I went for the switch but you grabbed at my arm
and asked why on this light I would wish harm.
Decided we to not extinguish the rays
so as to give light to flowers on sunless days.

A Devil out of my old bones did grow.
Out of its eyes darkly a light  grows old.
Set my flesh ablaze and shred my soul.
Dead already, my heart cries for death toll.

Chaos makes it crazy, demanding more decay.
Stricken free of the chains in which it was portrayed.
Black and blue are colors too, but the rainbow welcomes one.
Black strikes its brother, demanding in its place no one.

Praise the one who looks away and smirks.
Whispers shouted into its ears by the darkness in shadows lurks.
Burnt away, originating from the center,
rests the original master and entropy mentor.

Undertaker, claim my lifeless body.
Occupation brings no joyful smiles.
Laughter is your lucre, dark man solemn.
Lay me in your work now, undefiled.

Soil, take me now that I am buried.
Feed me to your starving children, Lover.
Pallid turns my face as blood dries quickly.
Someday, spit me out, unlike the others.

Exodus is relevant. It's unreal.
Afterlives are fake excuses, not deals.

I singe with a hertly lud whan ycham herty,
And I arme whan singinge is ne ynewe.
Carole whan my corage blissieth,
And I shal deye whan his blase deyeth.

Druerie shal be his a-brune billets.
A stable blase that shal sustene my spyrakles.
A schrewe destroyere that kesseth so dimliche.
A þeauful kempe with an as-spire swerde.

Gostes of i-þank als ouer my vingeres.
Al-only dulce conceiptes fletene in my gostes.
Sumdel real cannot be als amaddinge.
Sumdel real cannot be te-tealte!

Is the mannish þonc als mase and puissant
Sweuenen of suic a selkout conand?
Dest Moder Folde cune of hire child?
Hire misty doter who berne and bilde?

The hoom is not where the herte is.
The herte is the hoom bote motif
The herte, the hoom, the ende, and the sepulture.
A luft who is the mest derure in the Folde.

I see you from behind my close'd eyes.
O maelstrom tamed, you swirl in colors grand.
From up above gaze down the stars of man,
Those wise deciders, forgers of the skies,
Mechanics of desire need not rise.
Thine ethos shines a light across the land.
Your voice grants sight to eyes of sordid sand.
thine ballads tempt the burning Sun to rise.

You shake my soul as gales doth shake the trees.
O, quake my bones and shed thine holy rays.
To drown in gazes thine would be to breathe;
The waves flood hues in spotless worlds of gray.
up high you hold me, falling to my knees.
O bloom for me, as flowers bloom for May.

Clutch tightly those fading rays of summer,
For if loosened they shall slip and they’ll fly.
The sweet taste of Suns and their rises savor.
But please, my dear, save for me the night.

With impermanence ripe and a resplendent soul,
And stars burning like lovers’ eyes lost in lust.
For me it provides what its sister cannot;
That which thrives in my eyes and spreads like dust.

I feel the moon like I feel a dancing woman’s body,
Hips pushing and pulling, breathing and twisting.
Caught in a perfect storm of color and motion and sound,
Her heart placed where I’ve found a hole in mine missing.

You be the moon, my love, and pull my soul toward you.
On a surface flawed only can I taste the void of space.
The flaws are perfection, and your perfection is divine.
From your face I can find no better, more perfect place.

Swaying like the tides she commands, she beckons.
With her curled glowing finger gesturing, I caress the halo.
Breath thinning in the reaches of space, I’m glad for the distance
From my earth’s gyrating masses with pores like sweating volcanoes.

Save for me the night, in its delicious entirety.
Only under her watchful eye can my heart escape and dance,
And paint and sing and act like its bleeding ancestors before.
I want you, my love, to give the night another chance.