Little, large and tiny embers
Flew as if they’d grown their own feathers,
As flames erupted from my armchair leathers,
And long forgotten, left behind endeavours,
I am now standing near a man-made crevasse.
Feeling fire consuming my internal threshold,
Its painful lair,
Whilst emitting a strange glare,
My legs are shaking, and my hands and feet are bare.
I’ve no more knives and needles left to spare.
My potted roses have now withered,
The moment for I so long have lingered.
Their armaments in time became so dull,
Grinding my eternal thoughts into a lull.
The pain just never stops, I guess.
It doesn’t matter if their thorns sting less and less.
Her tender, warm and flower-scented head–
Oh, how I wish I could have pumped it full of lead.
And what of our dreams of an ascetic rural livelihood?
I reckon that moment you weren’t in the mood.
Us slowly splitting moisty birchwood logs.
Beloved, it seems it’s raining cats and dogs.
But now it’s nevermore;
I feel I’ve changed my history and lore
For this moment and evermore.
Or have I just repressed my need for gore?
A fairy meadow shaken to the core–
Before me the country house, I enter may not dare.
It is now derelict, in disrepair,
Winds sweeping through its crooked wooden stair.
I sense that deep inside she never even cared.
And I am crawling spitting blood and ash.
Fires burned my limbs into a pile of scorched flesh,
Life fleeting from my helpless carcass,
But now I have become Augustus–
Eternal city,
Our Rome I set aflame
With wood you brought, I know it isn’t fair,
Just as my radiant words fell into your ashtray.
I shall not lie,
Countless cats and dogs falling from the sky,
Of our beloved pets, corpses lying here and there.
