trip flare
and they are in a singing,
soprano sea of light
my heart thumping, baritone,
my eyes digesting this metastasizing meal
choking on it, until
the guy beside me opens fire,
emptying a magazine before I flip
from safety to rock ’n roll auto
both of us now filling the killing
fields with tracers,
whizzing shouting shadows
in this sorrowful symphony…
the light fades
in the newly darkened pit
the crawling ebony clad shapes
stop,
the conductor, long gone
to another stinking stage,
while here, the blood dries black
and I have new mournful memoirs
of the music of madness
Mar 27, 2014
Mar 27, 2014 at 6:49 PM UTC
trip flare
and they are in a singing,
soprano sea of light
my heart thumping, baritone,
my eyes digesting this metastasizing meal
choking on it, until
the guy beside me opens fire,
emptying a magazine before I flip
from safety to rock ’n roll auto
both of us now filling the killing
fields with tracers,
whizzing shouting shadows
in this sorrowful symphony…
the light fades
in the newly darkened pit
the crawling ebony clad shapes
stop,
the conductor, long gone
to another stinking stage,
while here, the blood dries black
and I have new mournful memoirs
of the music of madness
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