wrap me up in coarse
blackness, old dank Labyrinth
take me away, take me there
I am weary
and I am tired of this longing
it boars me to tears and tears
one way
this way
pull and pulled apart
this folly the fools call Love
I am all empty and gutted void
a rank and weary traveller
a shrivelled man stands there
a shadow of himself
won't you take pity ?
or are we all to be ******
Take your mind
and use your heart
Abuse your heart
and remove your heart
then choose a heart
and win that heart
and then bin that heart
and be careless enough not to destroy
that heart
to leave it beating its last
it feels nothing
because you feel nothing
it does not matter
because you know
you do not matter
all is acid
it stings the soul and burns the flesh
acrid and heavy stench
we build our defences
and fill out trenches
with slitted eyes we
scan the enemy benches
we see our Love
and Fire
volley after volley
confused we attack
and no holding back
we slaughter out Love
it shall not possess
we are proud and sovereign
no room for Love in our embattled
and shrivelled hearts
out and out and die alone
the Lark sings its final poem
Aug 2, 2015
Aug 2, 2015 at 9:46 PM UTC
wrap me up in coarse
blackness, old dank Labyrinth
take me away, take me there
I am weary
and I am tired of this longing
it boars me to tears and tears
one way
this way
pull and pulled apart
this folly the fools call Love
I am all empty and gutted void
a rank and weary traveller
a shrivelled man stands there
a shadow of himself
won't you take pity ?
or are we all to be ******
Take your mind
and use your heart
Abuse your heart
and remove your heart
then choose a heart
and win that heart
and then bin that heart
and be careless enough not to destroy
that heart
to leave it beating its last
it feels nothing
because you feel nothing
it does not matter
because you know
you do not matter
all is acid
it stings the soul and burns the flesh
acrid and heavy stench
we build our defences
and fill out trenches
with slitted eyes we
scan the enemy benches
we see our Love
and Fire
volley after volley
confused we attack
and no holding back
we slaughter out Love
it shall not possess
we are proud and sovereign
no room for Love in our embattled
and shrivelled hearts
out and out and die alone
the Lark sings its final poem
