I dream
dark and quietly
They bellow,
the twisted sighs of laborers
adrift a midsummer's lullaby,
because their eyes are a collage of uncertainty
I want to scatter them,
find them washed up on a desolate shore,
uncork them
decode the message inside,
The monarch's sea ebbs
black and thick and drips
on a satellite,
a power struggle between stillness
and the busy orbit of our minds.
All the sin the king commits
is revealed in the innocent, sapphire tears
of his children,
dampening his shadow.
Youthful hearts aflame, chasing illusions,
They won't challenge the stories,
not anymore.
We dream this night,
a never-ending cycle.
I feel us here
under the twisting tree of life,
any soul seeking nourishment from leaky roots:
We are your child's laughter.
We are your fear of death.
Let us dance upon your lilies,
let the flies handle the rest.
Mar 9, 2013
Mar 9, 2013 at 3:26 PM UTC
I dream
dark and quietly
They bellow,
the twisted sighs of laborers
adrift a midsummer's lullaby,
because their eyes are a collage of uncertainty
I want to scatter them,
find them washed up on a desolate shore,
uncork them
decode the message inside,
The monarch's sea ebbs
black and thick and drips
on a satellite,
a power struggle between stillness
and the busy orbit of our minds.
All the sin the king commits
is revealed in the innocent, sapphire tears
of his children,
dampening his shadow.
Youthful hearts aflame, chasing illusions,
They won't challenge the stories,
not anymore.
We dream this night,
a never-ending cycle.
I feel us here
under the twisting tree of life,
any soul seeking nourishment from leaky roots:
We are your child's laughter.
We are your fear of death.
Let us dance upon your lilies,
let the flies handle the rest.
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