Some girls tie their hair
Others let it float over their shoulder
I love them all just the same
But, when you open yours
I fall in love again
The hours and hours spin, spin around

Give me your everything
When you love me
I know that smile is brighter than the sun
But, we're so far
That I haven't seen the light in a long time
You're all I've got in the endless dark

If readers were made rulers
Their knights would wield pens
Their wars fought on paper
And their subjects imaginary

a desert's sapped gold, desolately

faced--struck by serpents whose

venom is a rising chorus.

vanity mirror of a sun that cannot

be imbued by secondariness.

spittle oasis' of a wanderer sinking

journey-less steps into the wending

tracks of serpents.

strung and unstrung along by dead-silent

arrays, multitudinal whispers of demons.

the slow decomposition of worship,

a promise to a promise, to a promise--

visibly lost.