When I am thrown from a cliff
how will I address the spirits ?
With my limbs crashing in our wooden room ?
the primitive sectors of my mind in flames ?
When my tongue pushes sacred air I
invoke silent destruction
Every impure atom flounders
My blood will remain
Puking with ****** revelation
Giving lethal sanction to pure hearts
Creation is the mad bird that never sleeps
with its head beneath the blade
Our murderers will turn like surprised doves
but our oldest comrades will declare war
Mar 27, 2012
Mar 27, 2012 at 4:12 PM UTC
When I am thrown from a cliff
how will I address the spirits ?
With my limbs crashing in our wooden room ?
the primitive sectors of my mind in flames ?
When my tongue pushes sacred air I
invoke silent destruction
Every impure atom flounders
My blood will remain
Puking with ****** revelation
Giving lethal sanction to pure hearts
Creation is the mad bird that never sleeps
with its head beneath the blade
Our murderers will turn like surprised doves
but our oldest comrades will declare war
Check out the famous Russian poet, Vladimir Mayakovsky.
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