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butch-decatoriaPoems
Here here! Time to drink deeper Life's elegant poison The distillation Indifferences Quasi-Bliss, meaningless kisses Vows long dismissed And the distemper in slights Eyes Steel piercing loathing Skull selfish Pretenses with fake smiles But feral quick An itch to pounce These Strange days's unfair fight Human-kindness flounced From talon to claw I've become a **** lamb In the fever of their masquerade ball They're dressed to the nines The tenth moment glowers Eleventh hour molts It's slime and skins Even by knowing the danger I'm still In Life now feels slick A snake eating its own tail While Death, a rictus of teeth Time in its hiss (They all hail) And now I've become a lone buoy, Smoke in the water / **** / deep Adrift in this drowning, Our ocean Creation weeps... I am Raising a toast To life even tho' Far from shore, I still love you so. Sunk in their potions Now made as tho' a mead, Drink deep Dark elegant poisons The liars tend to speak I will float upon every horizon They cannot defeat Cheers and Salut! To this divine comedy...
0
Jan 24, 2017
Jan 24, 2017 at 12:59 PM UTC
A Toast
Here here! Time to drink deeper Life's elegant poison The distillation Indifferences Quasi-Bliss, meaningless kisses Vows long dismissed And the distemper in slights Eyes Steel piercing loathing Skull selfish Pretenses with fake smiles But feral quick An itch to pounce These Strange days's unfair fight Human-kindness flounced From talon to claw I've become a **** lamb In the fever of their masquerade ball They're dressed to the nines The tenth moment glowers Eleventh hour molts It's slime and skins Even by knowing the danger I'm still In Life now feels slick A snake eating its own tail While Death, a rictus of teeth Time in its hiss (They all hail) And now I've become a lone buoy, Smoke in the water / **** / deep Adrift in this drowning, Our ocean Creation weeps... I am Raising a toast To life even tho' Far from shore, I still love you so. Sunk in their potions Now made as tho' a mead, Drink deep Dark elegant poisons The liars tend to speak I will float upon every horizon They cannot defeat Cheers and Salut! To this divine comedy...
butch-decatoria
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butch-decatoria
47/M
Jan 24, 2017
Jan 24, 2017 at 12:59 PM UTC
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