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Lex Wippich Dec 2014
Doppleganger, please let me go
release your grip on my poor soul
mother's calling you back home
please let me go.

We're living out a laymans dream
painting a paupers scheme
playing on the poor mans team
please let me go.

Terrible tyrants
taking asylum
inside my mind when
I am not home
Please please let me go.

I grow so tired
of feeeding this fire
if times werent so dire
then sleep I would desire.
Please lease let me go.
Lex Wippich Dec 2014
Keep your bags held high
try to keep your feet dry
the water's coming soon
will we ever see the sky?

Consumed by fright
we are strangers to the night
street sweepers on the move
burning little ladies in the night

To dream, to live, to be,
we will suffer in the streets
and one day hope to leave
our little penthouse by the sea

Social cleansing in the streets
soldiers armed to the teeth
we pray we will be safe
they dare not go beneath

Step into the abyss
men shouldnt live like this
to escape the death squads
sweet darkness we will kiss.

To dream, to live, to be,
we will suffer in the streets
and one day hope to leave
our little penthouse by the sea

Our children born and raised
in the stinking sewer cave
we'll toss the coin of misery
and pray to god we will be saved.
Lex Wippich Dec 2014
Pagoda, Pagoda,
My humble terrace by the sea.
Wayshrine for the hopeless
and the seekers of eternal ecstasy.
Why do they mistreat you so?
Ever accepting of our whimsical, hedonic presence,
you gave us shelter from the slobbering pigs and their execution sentence.
And still they ripped your gleaming limbs from you.
Those who claimed to love you.

Pagoda, Pagoda
so far from the corporate machine
living in an emerald midsummer dream
we must have lost our way along the chemical shores.
When the harsh confines of reality glared at my salt stained face
you treated me to warm freedom and a welcoming embrace
despite my turning a blind eye to your pain
and the savages who left you discarded.

Pagoda, Pagoda,
you were left hastily deserted
once summers tender muscles were exerted
and the liches stretched their frigid claws once again.
Now just an  ashen memory
while we count the hours in this glacial penitentiary
and wait for the beacon to bless us with its lazy gaze
and the return of our boardwalk paradise.
Lex Wippich Dec 2014
Solitary ravens perched atop their mothers *****
Constructing transparent barriers
On a plane of possibilities
A concrete mirage rises from symbolic repletion
As the solemn statue views the scene with tragic contempt
Species indifference aborted
As unity is easily cast aside and omitted
Left to brood on a cache of fertility
and navigate the foggy facade
exiled,
hermetic,
as the beaming banner
lazily plays sentry
to the border of the indentured oasis
Lex Wippich Dec 2014
Matron of the festival,
child of the hazy dream land,
herald of the time strayed deities.
With a raspy roar you call us out from our withered inflection,
into the maddening fire hive
rampantly dancing like indigineous arcane inventions.
Water bearer to the fractured hillside warriors,
queen of the concrete paradise,
ferry us to the elusive body of the moment
and rid us of our abnormal myopic reality.
Wandering child,
Beautiful child,
your epic expedition is at its timely genesis.
I pray the world is prepared
for your vivid prismatic anima
and the staunch anthem of revolution.

— The End —