hopelessly turning for lack of a shackle
hopelessly churning in need of a bridal
ride forth , they must
awake they lie,
studying the twinkling sky
forever returning-
what will happen if I cry out
into the dark blue slumber?
hopelessly yearning
for metamorphosis they pray
a maggot into a butterfly
miracles at bay
unfurling banners
birth horns of gold
moldy plums,
They bake in the sun
awaiting their fate
never again to see what’s scripted in slate
Nov 6, 2013
Nov 6, 2013 at 5:43 PM UTC
hopelessly turning for lack of a shackle
hopelessly churning in need of a bridal
ride forth , they must
awake they lie,
studying the twinkling sky
forever returning-
what will happen if I cry out
into the dark blue slumber?
hopelessly yearning
for metamorphosis they pray
a maggot into a butterfly
miracles at bay
unfurling banners
birth horns of gold
moldy plums,
They bake in the sun
awaiting their fate
never again to see what’s scripted in slate
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