A beach is roughest in winter
As snow and sand run through my hand
I lie in the dunes
Awaiting Doom and Death
My brethren in fighting life’s last joys
We delight in lighting the ocean aflame.
Lions are tamed in their cages, when
The strings of a harp tighten around their throats.
Analyzing the ragged fabric of my fantasies;
How can they be so dark, when they’re mine?
I’d like nothing more
Than to envision my paradise:
Drinking milk from the ****
Spitting cherry pits out, with
Gregory’s soft voice filling my head. But
The visions and sounds are murky,
It’s always lurking nearby- muddying up the water.
My fantasies instead, are of the beach.

The fire is spreading now
The flames are tinged blue
Doom and Death are collecting my dues
Their fingers leave bruises.
The fire is hungry
And milk will no longer put it out.
Human sacrifice was fine for ancients
Barbaric now, feed to it the sacred cow.