"lawless" poems
this is a tale
of two star-crossed lovers
with a love so powerful
they tainted the heavens
with bursts of colours
they were never meant to be;
mischievous little kids
finding love in sinful glee
in laughter, between dreams and reality
and though it was lawless,
they found solace
because in every prison,
they found a rhyme and a reason
but even for a love so great,
they could not escape
the fates’ wrath and envy
destiny pulled on their threads
cut them loose, thrusted them into misery;
for their memories were wiped clean,
but feelings remained as strong as they had ever been
the boy exiled in a far off land
across the pacific sea
the girl trapped in her need to break free
in a realm both boring and bland
ensnared in a labyrinth of woe
the lovers yearned for anything—
for something, for someone,
to obliterate this endless longing
the gods answered them
in the form of two loved ones
polished in every edge,
a perfect someone
but perfect felt too perfect
and not perfect enough
to fill up the hole
left by a perfectly imperfect
until one day the gods whispered
for the winds to push the two
and the birds to tug at their sleeves
over mountain and sea
even through the darkest valley
so their paths would finally meet
and so they did.
in the flurry of a moment
a pair of brown eyes met
and time was frozen
once more
the two stared intently
as if remembering a broken melody
a lost childhood song
branded as a wrong
the birds fluttered and flew
taking the cursed red fibre
snipped them in two
and the lovers felt all the lighter
it was the girl who spoke first:
**** the stars.
i don’t want perfect,
i want you.”*
eyes dazzling, the boy nodded:
*“we’ll invert the universe—
the night sky a blank white
the stars pitch black
the earth moving in reverse”*
the fates saw and surrendered
as the stars began to wither
for this love is love
in all its splendor
so the lovers walked away with a promise
under their breaths, they both swore:
*“i lost you once,
but nevermore.”*
****
Jan 21, 2018
Jan 21, 2018 at 10:46 PM UTC
Regardless of what the future holds, I know
that no feat of mathematical precision
no combination of zeroes and ones
no mechanical tool, no algorithm
can replicate your face.
In the rise and fall of your eyelids
and the pursing of your lips
there is a lawless radiance.
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 8:24 PM UTC
She's like a drama queen,
Plays the 'blame game' like a loser,
Fair minded as a bigot,
Wages war like drones,
As free as surveillance,
As open as privatized prisons,
As equal as feudalism,
As rich as the beggar masses,
Bankrupt as homeowners,
Socialist as the military,
Truthful, trustful as "NEWS," as propaganda,
Pagan as the manufactured Goddess 'Columbia,'
Christian as the stingy,
Pious as a sinner,
Wicked as securities, exchanges on 'Wall Street,'
Insecure as an empire,
Greedy as a fast food glutton,
As brave as a fool,
Warmongering as a chicken hawk politician,
Machevellian as a coward,
As rigged as the free market,
As selfish as Capitalism,
As tolerant as Islam,
Beautiful as a clear cut forest,
Charming as a strip mall,
Forward thinking as chaos,
Lawless as congress,
United as a belligerent crowd,
Compassionate as a swat team,
Green as any petrochemical company,
Organic as pollution,
Deep as a strip mine . . .
. . .
Sep 28, 2014
Sep 28, 2014 at 7:53 PM UTC
The birds they sang
at the break of day
Start again
I heard them say
Don't dwell on what
has passed away
or what is yet to be.
Ah the wars they will
be fought again
The holy dove
She will be caught again
bought and sold
and bought again
the dove is never free.
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.
We asked for signs
the signs were sent:
the birth betrayed
the marriage spent
Yeah the widowhood
of every government --
signs for all to see.
I can't run no more
with that lawless crowd
while the killers in high places
say their prayers out loud.
But they've summoned, they've summoned up
a thundercloud
and they're going to hear from me.
Ring the bells that still can ring ...
You can add up the parts
but you won't have the sum
You can strike up the march,
there is no drum
Every heart, every heart
to love will come
but like a refugee.
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in.
That's how the light gets in.
That's how the light gets in.
6.3k
death mourns a life
that succumbs to suicide...
classical lawless-ness?
calls the jyst...
a thieving;
a stolen death,
a suicide....
bride riddled to a bridge...
baking...
left half awake and half baked...
you count with the number of
blinding equations...
your 80+ segments?
i want nothing to be part of,
whether polymath,
bilingual, or polymath...
you resd yourself into "it"....
fuck you, and...
**** off...
in terms of .gif ***** files...
no... the part where
we don't parrot?
for no worthwhile surprise!
death is alal b & w...
memory?
all invigorating sepia...
life?
the blooming of color...
you take shrooms,
to invigorate the colors?!
oh look...
you're as loony as me...
and why would i
give a **** about your
tall-tales of subversive religiosity?!
you're right!
like you have been with me
to begin with...
there aren't any!
now?!
suffer!
you're in good hands...
turns out?!
i'm a sadist...
i somehow tested the pain on myself...
i enjoy...
the pain, of others,
having, prior, teased the pain
on, myself!
i forgot teasing the pain...
i taste it...
i welcome it...
i've become welcoming
in allowing it,
a stature abbreviating a transcendence
of victim-hood!
i need pain,
to craft an erasure of ever having
the capacity to instruct
a modus operandi for pleasure!
death contra suicide...
a fact contra a premature contest
of pleasure...
suicide is what
death calls thief...
there is no moral artifact
of a "question"...
suicide is the thief,
when death is the executioner...
what moral question is
to be entertained?
non!
i can't blame the mortality
arsonist...
less Tartarus and more Gehenna...
less S.S. and more khaki
S.A. night of the broken windows
and less...
hyper-Hindu
reincarnation,
hue hue grey...
woo woo the ashen pillage...
no... i'm not here for the
cinder and the ********
it's enough that i drink
the sort of excuse,
that sober people could hardly make
excuses about...
and that's enough...
and enough, is, where i'll stick to.
Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 10:22 PM UTC
I don't know what you could call this exactly,
I was at a musical concert in one of the states
And a school filled with children of less than 13 years of age
Presented a song which I could call a petition.
They were praying earnestly for God to save Nigeria
From lawless people, bloodshed, assassination and a list of other wreckless things
It touched me that finally, it has gotten to this! When children start to file a petition to God against our leaders saying for their sake God should save the nation
It's a bit disturbing that even the kids know that there is a problem with this nation.
Do we have to ridicule ourselves forever? The children who were in the ***** and groins some years back have come to understand the situation and are crying out.
The educational standard is falling to pieces and the threads would have to be carefully woven together if we wanna make something out of it again.
It's embarrassing to know that there are so many sectors that has failed, absolutely nothing is working.
Our leaders still apportion blame. Roads are not good and then you get to hear one is a federal road one is state owned. Does it matter who owns the road if it is in their country?
Why aren't everyone looking beyond their noses and see what's wrong. Our youths have resolved to fraud when hard work and talents aren't appreciated.
Universities have been shut down for months now in the name of strike and the government officials could afford to eat and carry on their daily activities!
Aren't they meant to be in the hospital, complaining of one illness or the other as a result of the unrest the matter has caused? Disheartening! Even the hospitals go on strike and innocent people are left to die as a result of no medical attention.
I was moved to tears when these children sang. The nation's unrest and matters have become prayer points in all places of worship. God should indeed look down from His throne, have mercy on us and save Nigeria!
Oct 26, 2013
Oct 26, 2013 at 9:28 AM UTC
This is the mountain I'm climbing
Due to circumstantial timing
The triumphant peaks change over time
Just one of this mountain's many crimes
The rocks on this mountain are flawed
But the mountain is flawless
Nature enforces restrictive laws
So my life becomes lawless
Through this insanity
I can't find my humanity
It's gagged and bound
In the lost and found
On this lonely hill
Where I get my fill
It's an uphill battle
Getting above this mountain
My conscience rattles
My eyes pour like a fountain
When I see everything suddenly
Like halos hovering
Over my past
Lying dead in the grass
Sometimes I must traverse a log to go over a bog
Then I must do the inverse to go under the smog
There are countless endeavors
Through varying weather
That leave me very confused
And frantically panicked
This mountain provides a view
Of the entire planet
This mountain made of dust
I scale because I must
Stillness develops rust
When cliffs await us
I see dead pioneers on the ground
I see weary travelers all around
I see fellow climbers as brothers
Unless I see them as a lover
Then I want to go cave exploring
Before my grave ends the story
Things should get weird
If banality is to be feared
In order to make a mark
Even if it's in the dark
To be perfectly candid
This mountain is my canvas
I carve my face in it as I go up
But my face changes as I grow up
So I start swag jacking
The backpacking
Mirror macking
Confidence lacking
Mountain attacking
Climbers
So I can find a crevasse to fit into
This mountain is easy to give in to
Feb 8, 2018
Feb 8, 2018 at 12:20 AM UTC
Hail, happy day, when, smiling like the morn,
Fair Freedom rose New-England to adorn:
The northern clime beneath her genial ray,
Dartmouth, congratulates thy blissful sway:
Elate with hope her race no longer mourns,
Each soul expands, each grateful ***** burns,
While in thine hand with pleasure we behold
The silken reins, and Freedom’s charms unfold.
Long lost to realms beneath the northern skies
She shines supreme, while hated faction dies:
Soon as appear’d the Goddess long desir’d,
Sick at the view, she languish’d and expir’d;
Thus from the splendors of the morning light
The owl in sadness seeks the caves of night.
No more, America, in mournful strain
Of wrongs, and grievance unredress’d complain,
No longer shalt thou dread the iron chain,
Which wanton Tyranny with lawless hand
Had made, and with it meant t’ enslave the land.
Should you, my lord, while you peruse my song,
Wonder from whence my love of Freedom sprung,
Whence flow these wishes for the common good,
By feeling hearts alone best understood,
I, young in life, by seeming cruel fate
Was snatch’d from Afric’s fancy’d happy seat:
What pangs excruciating must ******
What sorrows labour in my parent’s breast?
Steel’d was that soul and by no misery mov’d
That from a father seiz’d his babe belov’d:
Such, such my case. And can I then but pray
Others may never feel tyrannic sway?
For favours past, great Sir, our thanks are due,
And thee we ask thy favours to renew,
Since in thy pow’r, as in thy will before,
To sooth the griefs, which thou did’st once deplore.
May heav’nly grace the sacred sanction give
To all thy works, and thou for ever live
Not only on the wings of fleeting Fame,
Though praise immortal crowns the patriot’s name,
But to conduct to heav’ns refulgent fane,
May fiery coursers sweep th’ ethereal plain,
And bear thee upwards to that blest abode,
Where, like the prophet, thou shalt find thy God.
4.6k
Why must a heart beat?
To keep a rhythmic marching time through life?
That common tempo keeping order in
our lawless world of hate and fear death.
Each heartbeat rallies troops across the globe,
a single feature shared in every life,
an army built on spirit, crying out
with every thump that we are one.
But what must hearts beat for?
To beat we mean to say 'to fight,'
and for what better cause to fight than love?
That painful pleasure wielding power both
to wreck lives and create them,
the strength it gives to those from whom it stole in battles past.
Enamoured and encased in armour,
steeled against the pain before
as drums beat faster
palms grow sweaty
the tempo quickens
gazes steady
you brace and lean in
gently
and surrender to his kiss
as he gives in to yours,
your battle won by both
as both your drums keep time in perfect synchrony
your breaths the perfect melody that keep
the perfect peace.
Apr 3, 2018
Apr 3, 2018 at 8:39 AM UTC
Hear ye my statute, men of Attica--
Ye who of bloodshed judge this primal cause;
Yea, and in future age shall Aegeus's host
Revere this court of jurors. This the hill
Of Ares, seat of Amazons, their tent,
What time 'gainst Theseus, breathing hate, they came,
Waging fierce battle, and their towers upreared,
A counter-fortress to Acropolis;--
To Ares they did sacrifice, and hence
This rock is titled Areopagus.
Here then shall sacred Awe, to Fear allied,
By day and night my lieges hold from wrong,
Save if themselves do innovate my laws,
If thou with mud, or influx base, bedim
The sparkling water, nought thou'lt find to drink.
Nor Anarchy, nor Tyrant's lawless rule
Commend I to my people's reverence;--
Nor let them banish from their city Fear;
For who 'mong men, uncurbed by fear, is just?
Thus holding Awe in seemly reverence,
A bulwark for your State shall ye possess,
A safeguard to protect your city walls,
Such as no mortals otherwhere can boast,
Neither in Scythia, nor in Pelops's realm.
Behold! This Court august, untouched by bribes,
Sharp to avenge, wakeful for those who sleep,
Establish I, a bulwark to this land.
This charge, extending to all future time,
I give my lieges. Meet it as ye rise,
Assume the pebbles, and decide the cause,
Your oath revering. All hath now been said.
3.6k
If I could simply overcome
Possessive nouns and vowel sounds
I would not need to study ******
Heavy lies’ beheaded crowns
But you make martyrs with your charter
School exclusive service sector
To systemically condemn me
To the destitution nectar
Of the corner story ******
Potential Cinderella caged in
The statistics of the mathematic
Overdose equation
Comatose’n like a Holy Ghost
Of tranquil ranking party skanks
Whose tanks plan out the projects
For the boys still shootin’ blanks
And then the slavers liberate
Some nation-state of god forsaken
Oil barons salivate
To taste the poison Apple’s stake in
Stock in stuffer markets takin’
All the products people makin’
Privatizing profit-docket lawless
Mother Nature rapin’
For some scarcity disparities
In wealth I can’t attain
You keep me feeding on the bottom
From the top, you make it rain
So as the brains continue drainin’
In amenity dependency
I tinker with the inner-machinations
Now the enemy
You’ve made me out to be you see
My generation’s future’s bleaker
Than the past in full HD
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 1:45 PM UTC
though said to be golden like that of Eris,
the mores which you so savor are hollow with worms.
your stony statutes, finally crumbling, now
remind me of rose-colored saran wrap:
stretched too thin across the epochs
to bind each lawless Julia at present.
able now to be whole—free from your unadulterated peace,
spun, measured, and cut are your class lines at last.
and so with a sigh of relief so great that it could echo across
all of the Caucasus,
your Ovid, cast away, has returned.
Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 7:55 PM UTC
NEW neighbors came to the corner house at Congress and Green streets.
The look of their clean white curtains was the same as the rim of a nun's bonnet.
One way was an oyster pail factory, one way they made candy, one way paper boxes, strawboard cartons.
The warehouse trucks shook the dust of the ways loose and the wheels whirled dust-there was dust of hoof and wagon wheel and rubber tire-dust of police and fire wagons-dust of the winds that circled at midnights and noon listening to no prayers.
"O mother, I know the heart of you," I sang passing the rim of a nun's bonnet-O white curtains-and people clean as the prayers of Jesus here in the faded ramshackle at Congress and Green.
Dust and the thundering trucks won-the barrages of the street wheels and the lawless wind took their way-was it five weeks or six the little mother, the new neighbors, battled and then took away the white prayers in the windows?
2.8k
Honey meets tongue,
Leaves taste buds stung and mouth melting
violently versing vows, Spilling out
fermented
Thoughts caught aloud
Dribbling down toward where they ought not
Time stopped us In a clockmaker shop
Cooking empty pots of dead doves in forgot sauce
Some day in december's When
Plans were dismembered
For the scent of Butter bubbling curiosity
Found horse hungry, So, suddenly he broke free
Trampling Predictable logic.
chasing her tail to town
When, I, sir pain, thought id taught again, then again
the art of invading castles,
Without being found.
Trolling, rolling through The inner out of bounds
A shoeless, shoreless yet Very sure way To get around
None catching on of course Till swordsman number four
Split with silver This world on wheels we made
With a crash
left some
Birthday suit vision
Standing
stunned
stupid
Abashed with a gun to the mirror
Which crying, stammered:
If you let them dear,
Just let them,
They will Listen,
To your chime, chiming Bells inside,
Rhyming you dread hearing songs from"
Said defense:
"Who wants to play each blow to the heart
With lawless abandon to The head?"
"letting harsh light burn holes and leave marks wherever they feel"
Don't think so Solomon!"
Vision laughs,
reflection kneels,
Hands praying
And In the periphery, as a way to break scene here
we see the mailman Crying tears on a map
Who once watched little Ms steel-sturdy
put on her full act.
Wood chips flew thenmsky went black
Pupils dilate to her shell-shocked state Of Before,
before hell bent on Withholding,
before Taking hostage of clowns who are all tied up with
Lilith, the queen
The state that led our wayward siren to begin driving round
in Some man-made beast
She calls Ed.
Oct 6, 2013
Oct 6, 2013 at 7:22 AM UTC
Your troubles shrink not, though I feel them less
Here, far away, than when I tarried near;
I even smile old smiles—with listlessness—
Yet smiles they are, not ghastly mockeries mere.
A thought too strange to house within my brain
Haunting its outer precincts I discern:
—That I will not show zeal again to learn
Your griefs, and, sharing them, renew my pain….
It goes, like murky bird or buccaneer
That shapes its lawless figure on the main,
And each new impulse tends to make outflee
The unseemly instinct that had lodgment here;
Yet, comrade old, can bitterer knowledge be
Than that, though banned, such instinct was in me!
2.5k
The man who rightly acts without coercion
Will not be grieved, can never wholly sink in wretchedness;
While the lawless criminal is forcibly dragged under
In the current of time when from the shattered mast
The elements rip down his sails.
He shouts, there is no ear to hear him
Struggling, hopeless, at the maelstrom's center.
Gods laugh at the transgressor now,
Watching him, his pride now wrecked,
Caught in desperation's shackles.
He flees the rocks in vain;
His fortunes smash on retribution's reef
And, unmourned, he is engulfed.
2.4k
This is Detroit
and we ignore
what the rest of the world
has to say about us,
we wear our stink
like a badge of honor
and we laugh
at the fear on your face
knowing where you are
and what youve heard.
This is Detroit
the motor-city
which means
you better own one
because our public transportation *****
our roads aren't much better
and our gas prices are high
which means
the speed limit is unacceptable in the fast lane
in fact,
anything thats not 10-15 over
is not acceptable
treat our highways like the autobahn
This is Detroit
and any Coney Island you go to
you shouldn't see any fries
underneath the chili and cheese
regardless how small It may be
This is Detroit
and its a city that refuses to die
because of its artistic output
from Motown
to Eminem
and our failures
that catch the eye of the world
yet we live on
through the hardship
that builds our character
as they scoff
This is Detroit
and every pothole
every decaying building
every makeshift
into a new business
is a character trait
where banks become pizza shops
and theaters parking lots
This is Detroit
where we still show up and party
for a football team that has never
won a Superbowl
This is Detroit
we are dangerous
we are lawless
we know our own
and we wouldn't want it any other way
Sep 24, 2014
Sep 24, 2014 at 7:13 PM UTC
His dog chased her
through the woods.
The rifle can **** from
three-hundred yards.
Watch her leap logs
and sidestep
sticks grabbing
at her shoulders.
There are three Gods
in the woods,
behind any tree.
No one is as ruled
as the lawless.
No one is as sedated
as the frenzied.
Sympathy couldn't be
measured in screams,
but measured
in her breaths.
Beyond the
honeydew horizon,
the senseless cease.
The half-life of eyes:
her only escape.
Where the tree-trunks
are furnished by the
candied corpses.
Her feet chomp at the
prostituted ground.
She will die, here,
whether she lives
or not.
For what is stolen,
stays.
Apr 7, 2015
Apr 7, 2015 at 7:52 PM UTC
Grandiose and lofty it may seem
Nevertheless it’s a thought that captures
A dream I consider supreme
It triggers a spontaneous feeling of rapture
Whenever it crosses my mind.
It’s that a lawless society is an empowered society
The premise being that life is kind
Lending credence to society imposed piety.
As succinct as it is,
It sums up my simple idiosyncrasy as me
It’ll be a paradigm shift that’ll put my mind at ease
And fill my heart with glee.
The existing realities are grim
Stupefying for lack of a better word.
Andy Bryn.
May 2, 2013
May 2, 2013 at 2:00 AM UTC
LOUD trumpets blow among the naked pines,
Fine spun as sere-cloth rent from royal dead.
Seen ghostly thro' high-lifted vagrant drifts,
Shrill blaring, but no longer loud to moons
Like a brown maid of Egypt stands the Earth,
Her empty valley palms stretched to the Sun
For largesse of his gold. Her mountain tops
Still beacon winter with white flame of snow,
Fading along his track; her rivers shake
Wild manes, and paw their banks as though to flee
Their riven fetters.
Lawless is the time,
Full of loud kingless voices that way gone:
The Polar Caesar striding to the north,
Nor yet the sapphire-gated south unfolds
For Spring's sweet progress; the winds, unkinged,
Reach gusty hands of riot round the brows
Of lordly mountains waiting for a lord,
And pluck the ragged beards of lonely pines-
Watchers on heights for that sweet, hidden king,
Bud-crowned and dreaming yet on other shores-
And mock their patient waiting. But by night
The round Moon falters up a softer sky,
Drawn by silver cords of gentler stars
Than darted chill flames on the wintry earth.
Within his azure battlements the Sun
Regilds his face with joyance, for he sees,
From those high towers, Spring, earth's fairest lord,
Soft-cradled on the wings of rising swans,
With violet eyes slow budding into smiles,
And small, bright hands with blossom largesse full,
Crowned with an orchard coronal of white,
And with a sceptre of a ruddy reed
Burnt at its top to amethystine bloom.
Come, Lord, thy kingdom stretches barren hands!
Come, King, and chain thy rebels to thy throne
With tendrils of vine and jewelled links
Of ruddy buds pulsating into flower!
2.2k
this is love stripped of poetry, so here darling, i might as well just rip out my chest because not loving you is the last act of self-inflicted violence. how i rue the days. i might as well just rip my chest out and give you my heart — burrow your way under my skin, like wood dusts drawn to the wounds in my heels. i will give up poetry to be loved by you in ways not dreamy. in ways raw. sober. aware. unadulterated. lawless. infinite. in intense, longing gazes. in ways that stray from falling apart so beautifully, in such chest-tearing grace. in ways that stain tenderness. in ways that crash and burn.
my love, catch me. watch me tear down the world in the name of your eyes. watch me tear down poetry. i have no need for it.
Aug 17, 2021
Aug 17, 2021 at 1:47 AM UTC
U: NDRESSED
G: EVIOUS
L: UNLOVED
Y: YOU'RE forgetting one more thing...and that's because you're
P: ERFECTLY IMPERFECT
E: VERYTHING YOU ALWAYS NEEDED
R: EASSURED
F: LAWLESS
E: XTRAEXTRODINARY
C: HALANT
T: REASURED & TALENTED
(Read Note)
Jun 27, 2021
Jun 27, 2021 at 9:12 PM UTC
As the world slowly turns
And governments try to rise
It will surely please my sight
To see them fall before my eyes
Everywhere I turn to look
A new law is being created
For what? Why so?
To traumatize and belittle us
Why must we obey a human power
All we need is the Lord thy God
To govern us and lead us abroad
No need for following the devil's
Dark angels of havoc and chaos
I am with the lawless
I'd rather govern myself
As should we all..
Let's come together people
Let us rise up in revolution
And stake claim our own land
"America, land of the free" they say,
Can someone show to me
What is free in this place?
We should be able to do whatever
To be allowed to ingress wherever
But instead we are bound by rule
This society must someday change
I am in a state of nihilism
Let us run and do what we please
I surely refuse to remain enclosed
Living in attendance to injustice
Me and my crew are ready for war
Time has come to overthrow
Let's make the law's ship flounder
Sinking to the abyss of nothingness
Rise anarchy rise!!!
The trillions of dollars they sit on
Let's take it from their sacred places
I'm ready to orchestrate dominance
Let's machinate the takeover
If blood shall be spilled,
Then let it be spilled honorably
In battle as one
As long as we accomplish our goal
To become a heavenly anarchy
Making peace reside in our land
No more indescriminate deaths
No more unhealthy eating
No inhumane death of animals
We must live freely
As wild mustangs on grassy plains
If anyone stands by me
With a load of support
It will happen
Just wait and see...
Apr 12, 2013
Apr 12, 2013 at 5:02 AM UTC
Got lost and stopped by the grotto
struck deals with villains,
and though I'm in my feelings
kneeling and ****** off
I payed to be ripped off
cadences dip, lost the lotto
Watery graves appealing strange
the solution is lame
the parade's an insane path to follow
Radical urchin burden
grifting the current
mechanisms infected
luring fevers to wallow in, ad absurdum
fathom futility in survival
famine imbibes a stifled echo of revival
in my head
I'm just playing dead for my recital
better informed to the abhorrence I'm entitled
feathered in form alluring sword alarm from Michael
clever to wars imparted forcible and vital, to the era
but staring in awe before the cycle
Bearing a maw beneath the throes along the final.
Bury me after my heart
and guard informal notions of the lauded
if calluses lift the filthy and applaud it
whittle the simply to the too intense or lawless
for a history glistening through a rose of sickly fondness
I won't ask if you were listening to all this
but I must admit
I don't think I can trust you
to be honest...
Dec 17, 2018
Dec 17, 2018 at 1:25 AM UTC