"subjugate" poems
There are some people
Who think very logically
They have a hard time
Seeing anything that
Doesn't make sense in
Their minds and that
Doesn't fit into their
Ideas of what is
Logical and right and
What they can see right
In front of their eyes
There are also the
People who understand
And comprehend the
World around them
Through their feelings
And emotions and
Can see the bigger
Picture and the bigger
Plan easier than most
We all make up our
Own parts and we
All have our own
Purpose and even
Though we are all
Different in our own
Ways we must learn to
Appreciate the wonderful
Differences that make
Up the whole and
To see and take notice
Of the wonderful and
Beautiful diversity of
Life and of people and
Of thoughts and even
Of the Earth as well
As we begin to
Celebrate the diversity
Instead of trying to
Segregate and separate
Ourselves based on our
Differences we should
Be trying to learn and
Understand from each
Other instead of trying
To conquer and subjugate
People to our ideas and
Ways of thinking we should
Be trying to see things
From the other side of
Things and understanding
There is more the life than
Right or wrong and trying
To prove yourself to others
And seeing that even with
All of our differences we
Are for more connected
And alike than we all
Could imagine and once
We understand that simple
Truth everything else starts
To fall into place as we start
To see the beautiful diversity
And the wonder of life as
We begin to see things
More completely and
Understand we are all
Parts of one big great
Diverse community that
We call the human race
Dec 13, 2013
Dec 13, 2013 at 4:41 PM UTC
We, the people of this country, in your eyes are:
babblers, bachelors, bafflers, baiters, barkers,
beakers, beaters, brawlers, blamers, beggars,
bloaters, bloopers, bombers, boozers, blunders,
bruisers, bafflers, bluffers, burglars and burners.
That's why you feel compelled to keep your foot on our heads
keep us down, put us down, push us down
subjugate us, belittle us, berate us.
We, the people of this country, in our eyes are:
butlers, bouncers, bakers, buyers, barbers,
cake-makers, delivery-takers, cocktail-shakers,
taxi drivers, cancer survivors, employers and hirers,
music makers, entertainers, window washers, foster takers,
plasterers, carpenters, scaffolders, sparks and builders,
boxers, carers, coaches, tailors, shoe makers,
designers, illustrators, multi-language facilitators,
dog walkers, dog trainers, bikers and cycle couriers,
doctors and nurses and all the emergency services.
We are the People, the reason you are where you are now
you sometimes forget that we exist as people, somehow
locked in your ivory towers with gold plated showers
and MP expenses and investment banker pretenses
this is not theater, its real life drama, its not just a bluff
its time to stand up
and say enough is enough.
Jun 27, 2014
Jun 27, 2014 at 9:54 AM UTC
1617
To try to speak, and miss the way
And ask it of the Tears,
Is Gratitude’s sweet poverty,
The Tatters that he wears—
A better Coat if he possessed
Would help him to conceal,
Not subjugate, the Mutineer
Whose title is “the Soul.”
4.5k
As we struggle for air
Waves crash black bones,
Trees subjugate,
Flocks congregate,
Lost, like dog without bone,
We wither away endlessly
Without a say,
but remain warm
For arms of open joy,
As we fear we might lose
A place we once built,
But remain blind
Of her flawless beauty.
May 6, 2017
May 6, 2017 at 8:05 AM UTC
I am worth being valued for existing
Not only in the moments
That I become relevant, necessary, or useful
For lustful, celebratory or inspirational insanity
I am not a lollipop or an exotic destination
Stop exploring me *************
Because you salivate over this Hispaniola
Beautiful island desecrated and decimated
How many beautiful spirits will you make savages
How many pure rivers will you **** blood on
How many conquests will you claim a stake in
How much balance will you disturb and subjugate
to the trauma of your transitory exploration
There's no impunity for conquerors
Who taste, plunder, disguise disapproval in their apologies and move on
There's no impunity for conquerors
Who pick and choose who's worth
Of validation, when, & how
There's no impunity for conquerors
Who play with men and women
Hierarchize their prey
But fail to acknowledge
Their man-child whitewashed
Hidden agendas & rigged market values
Conquerors haunted by the trauma they've caused
Will not be absolved by the revolution
Neither will the revolution be the breast
That heals conquers who are traumatized
By the realization of their own fuckery
Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 5:29 AM UTC
I think that its very arrogant
For some people to believe
That we are somehow better than
Or greater than any other animal
Or any living organism on this planet
We all live and exist just the same
Floating on the same beautiful ball
That we all call home
Everything has a spirit
You can not separate spirit from matter
So to say that animals don't have a soul
Or don't have a spirit
I believe is a very arrogant statement
It denies them the spark and spirit
And ultimately denies the fact that they
Are living breathing beings just like us'
I don't believe that we were put here
To subjugate the fields and the animals
We were meant to live in harmony with
The other living things on this planet
And to live in harmony with ourselves as well
Learning from each other
Existing in harmony with the planet
Not against it
In the effort of trying to tame the wild
We have ultimately destroyed
Our planet in the process
I believe that we need to get back to the natural way
Living in communion with each other
And living in communion with every living thing
That is on this wonderful
Beautiful blue ball
We call Earth
And we all call home
Apr 11, 2012
Apr 11, 2012 at 2:24 AM UTC
I live in the land
Of the inbetweeners.
We are what
The French would call,
Bourgeoisie.
What the ghetto calls,
Bougie.
What the successful calls,
Day dreamers,
And what we call,
The future leaders.
I live in
The land of rebels.
The people who fought against their oppressors
Because they know the truth behind
Social Darwinism;
And the fact of the matter is
That no race
Is a superior race
Because "race"
Is a manmade idea
To justify the injust
Ideas of slavery.
The rebels who ran out of chains
Because they weren't
Supposed to be chained down.
The rebels who walked midnight railroads
To escape the clutches
Of the white man's burden.
The rebels who refused to stand
In one spot
When there were plenty of seats available.
The rebels who refused
to bite their tongues and
The rebels who refused to be spoken over
Because they had
A lot of important stuff to say.
The rebels who dreamt outrageous dreams,
So that the complexion
Of your pigment
Was never a deciding factor
In your life.
The rebels who refused
to follow unlawful laws
Because they were
Law abiding citizens
Only when laws were just.
The rebels who challenged what was superiority,
The rebels who changed the course of history forever.
I live in
The land of the outsiders
Who conform the
Preconceived ideas
To fit them
We roll small blunts
of white paper
Filled with the words
of novels and poetry
And blow through those books
Inhaling every letter
And letting it cling to our lungs
Flowing the grammar
Throughout our bodies.
We stand spittin
Absolute value bars
Rapping elongated equations
Of X equals
Y +/- root Z
Divided by root A
Times the quantity of
B - C.
We stick up
Banks filled with
Material and instruction.
Stealing all the information we can take
And try peicing it together
So that more than words
We have knowledge.
We **********
Our brains,
Pleasing its sapiosexual
******* with
Grammar and arithmetic.
I live in the land
Of the inbetweeners.
The people making history
In their everyday lives.
The revolutionaries
Who fight for even
The smallest of issues.
The individuals who stand out
Amongst a crowd of people
That look just like them.
The inbetweeners,
They who refuse
To subjugate themselves
To society,
But will subjugate society
To themselves.
Feb 8, 2014
Feb 8, 2014 at 4:08 PM UTC
I feel so lost, i feel so alone
But isn't that what i wished for?
Isn't that what I deserve?
To know the greeting sorrow of being in love
The demons inside me now raging out of control
I want to fly away, fly away, like a free, fearless dove
The ongoing war inside me is one I can't ignore, one i cant shove
I am broken yet I'm still fixed
This fabrication of happiness we wear like a concealed glove
To hide away the broken pieces of us like dark secrets kept hushed
Yet mere words can crumble us, turn us into dust
words can haunt you, taunt you, until you burst
This world teaches you to expect the worst
Maybe I should have never learned to trust
Maybe I should have learned to put myself first
To be altruistic in a self-serving world is the same as being forever cursed
But this world is not what i fear
Its the thoughts inside me i refuse to hear
An undefeated battle, I can't make disappear
I want to run away from myself, everything's unclear
All this pain i try to push away
Who knew breathing could make one suffocate?
For a man's biggest enemy is himself...one he can't subjugate
Nov 8, 2015
Nov 8, 2015 at 1:39 PM UTC
AMERICA, THE BEAUTIFUL?
Were you aware that our nation opposed Haiti's revolution for democracy in the early 1800s; that our nation's war against Mexico that began in 1846 resulted in our taking half of Mexico for ourselves; that our nation defeated Spain ostensibly to liberate Cuba, but actually established a military base on the island and furtively gained de facto control of its puppet government; that our nation seized Puerto Rico, Hawaii, and Guam; that our nation had fought a brutal war to subjugate the Phillipines; that our nation had opened Japan for trade with us with threats and gunboats; that our nation created an "Open Door" policy with China to exploit it economically; that our nation engineered a revolution against Colombia to create the nation of Panama so we could build the canal through it; that our nation sent 5,000 Marines in 1926 to Nicaragua to counter their democratic revolution; that our nation in 1916 intervened in the Dominican Republic for the fourth time; that our nation in 1915 intervened in Haiti for the second time, and so on. Imperialism, not democracy, steered our nation's decisions and movements.
Did any of you learn about, let alone study extensively, any of these flagitious Ameican acts and policies as you sat and squirmed in your high school American history class? My surmise is that you did not. But I bet you were required in at least one of your classrooms sometime between 1st and 12th grade to stand at attention, as it were, and recite the Pledge of Allegiance as you saluted the flag in the corner. My riposte: What does it matter if our flags are waving, if our spirits are flagging?
Epilogue: Most importantly, never forget that it was the two evils of slavery and genocide that propelled our nation into what once was the most influential nation on Earth.
Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks
Jun 26, 2020
Jun 26, 2020 at 8:52 PM UTC
Darling what your words have claimed, is true. I have grown an affintity for you, and, but a mere fatuation would undermine my emotions for you. You could be as poor as the dictionary can describe it, but I would have no dispute with breaking bread on a futon in a one bedroom apartment, for my darling I would have you to share it with. I cannot explain in any way or word what linkage I feel towards you and what imminent, unborn quandry, disagreements or dilemas we might face. I'll be over and above to put those problems to their knees, shut them down and subjugate them. Eye, there will be exceptional recherche, eye there will be dissatisfactory and atrocious, but I vow to never slant in our interconnection. I'll stand by you during quandry and I'll stand by you in a war, because not only my heart that loves you so dearly, my soul has grown quite fond towards you, that never before have. And in all verity, I have gone far more than fall in love. I vow to preserve and protect thee love.
Aug 11, 2018
Aug 11, 2018 at 4:45 PM UTC
*Gone are the days of yore
When intellectualism was a preserve
Of the privileged and distinguished in society
A family ‘heirloom’ passed on to succeeding generations*
*Over the years the human mind
Has morphed into a think tank of awe and bamboozlement
An object for advancement…and destruction almost in equal measure
A portal to self-destruction
*Political pundits passionately discourse in the corridors
Of power over an issue as mundane as food taxes
Am ****** if this aint a move to subjugate the populace
Whilst reveling in the guise of representing the best interests of the electorate*
*It’s a slap in the face of reason and logic
A soiling and tainting of mother earth’s unconditional benevolence
Extended to her humble earthlings as bountiful harvest
But a means of self-aggrandizement it is for the politicians and their loyalists
Apparently this is *political correctness
Jul 5, 2013
Jul 5, 2013 at 5:40 AM UTC
I, the self, saw small subsidiaries of larger rivers.
Then I joined the water and sank deep in its hug.
As if chaos wasn't chaos.
Many simple and small expressions on the cusp of a monstrous wave.
-truly random randomness is absurdity
and absurdity folly.
Until oneself awoke to fleshy folly.
In every satirical ebb and flow
it creates neither order nor disorder because both are illusory.
There is no science of history just the insanity of hounds who trough
luminescence enough
to be dangerous,
gnarling their fangs at me.
In the distance they appear as beacons
but they are only ash now.
Electronic flotation device hovers above the memory,
kinetic nostalgia.
I the oneself can never be a memory
One has to become an objective entity to become a truly subjugate oneself.
-to reject it all,
discard all the objects,
to unplug,
to disconnect.
-reconnect to awaken to divine folly:
Contracting and expanding with the confidence of understanding with wives and
government.
The self thought it was him.
The self, a pariah, forgot the boy.
He became the whole self, the oneself,
and then forgot the self
to gain the self.
The warm plaster mold cracking.
Diseases and the cures both wear masks.
Plagues and reckless panacea are memories that only sort-of work backwards.
I the self,
poor masked sort,
felt the universe's tendons,
felt its flesh.
The oneself waits awake-
amidst the tearing of realities tissue.
Ossifying skin to bone,
to stone.
My muscles remember being metals
molten and dumb
like an Olympian.
Oct 4, 2012
Oct 4, 2012 at 1:42 AM UTC
Waltz of
humanity.
Spinning.
Spinning
out of the
goo. Landing
on our feet.
Look around
then organize.
Organize to
survive.
Organization
requires
hierarchy.
Hierarchy
requires power,
power to
control.
Humanity
controlling
humanity.
Structures
with controls.
Some telling
others what
to do.
Power to
control.
The few
controlling
the many.
Always, controllers
controlling.
Doing, saying
whatever it takes
to control.
Kneel and bow
do as you’re
told.
Flaw, control
going viral
planet wide
technology enhanced.
Subjugate whole
with control.
Sad times ahead.
Sep 24, 2018
Sep 24, 2018 at 11:08 AM UTC
Either they don't imagine guys like me anymore,
Or they can't trust & hold on to guys like me any longer.
Such is the vanishing breed of the good guy-cum-tiger,
Perhaps they are so used to living in evil that good seems evil ever.
Succumbing to emotional injuries we get softer,
Perhaps we have learnt to subjugate forever.
Dec 30, 2015
Dec 30, 2015 at 3:14 PM UTC
God curse developers
Who bury waste contaminants,
God curse investors
Who prey upon the weak.
God curse the Nazis
Who terrorize minorities
God curse the leaders
Who lie each time they speak.
God curse the despots
Who subjugate their people,
God curse Big Oil
Who swamp the world with greed.
God curse the Jihadists
Who slaughter indiscriminately,
God curse the poor
Who bleat about their need.
God curse the haters
Who bleed the world of latitude
God curse the moaners
Who take away the hope
God curse religion
Which robs us of tomorrow
And God curse the rest of you
Who limit me, my scope!
Marshalg
@thebach
17 May 2011
May 16, 2011
May 16, 2011 at 2:02 PM UTC
Celestial ocean
Arms outstretched
We sail beneath the light
Calamitous wave
Rising in the dark
To subjugate the night
Watch the stars fall
A drop of wishful
Our faithful will provide
Warm premonitions
In pale embracement
As fostered fates collide
Jun 28, 2023
Jun 28, 2023 at 11:17 AM UTC
I am a thing.
A conglomeration of atoms.
A little thing you can borrow
From him
Or her
Or anyone, really
But I’m also sort of yours
Just ask you
I am a milky neck beneath long sunny hair
Sunshine, you call me,
Old Man,
Just before you dig your boorish, ***** blutwurst fingers
Straight into my crunchy upper vertebrae
In the spirit of a "neck massage,"
Invading me
Injuring me
Insulting me
Bruising the skin like a ripe peach you have dropped ten times
With your sick fingertips
Until I fear cervical dislocation
That’s a broken neck in lay terms.
Skinny, you call me
Like it is my identity.
Like if I gained weight
You might call me Fatty.
Beautiful, you call me
Like it is my name.
I am not skinny. I am not fat.
I am me shaped.
I am beautiful, but that is the least of my graces.
My name is Hope, ****** Call me Hope.
I am a thing.
A conglomeration of atoms.
A little thing you can subjugate
Without even using your hands.
All you need are words
Because all I’ve got are two X chromosomes.
Women should obey their husbands.
Women should bear children.
Wait, WOMAN isn’t generic enough.
Females.
Females only go to college to get married.
Females spend too much time with other females
But females should not spend too much time with men.
Men.
A man is a male human.
A woman is a female human.
I am a THING that is a HUMAN BEING.
And I would ask you to treat me like one
But until I am more to you than a female
I cannot expect you to act like a man.
May 25, 2015
May 25, 2015 at 11:24 PM UTC
I walk down to the stream,
a ghost among the tendrils of mist
wakening from the moist air.
The half-moon gives a weak light to my feet,
but grows stronger
as the night rises
and shakes off the sleepiness of twilight.
Sitting on a rough stone,
I look into the shadows
and begin to think.
I pull out my flashlight, try to write,
then turn it off and stare at the stars.
Branches of the tree above me grasp at the wind.
I wrestle with much more,
but cannot grasp my thoughts
or the inconceivable movement
within my soul
any better than I can subjugate the bodiless air.
A melancholy that is not sorrow
settled on me a year ago
this night, in the dark of October's waning moon.
I stand up and leave the stone to wander.
I meet the banks of the shallow stream
and stand there for a while, empty.
There is nothing,
there has been nothing,
for twelve months
since I renounced my pain and bitterness.
Everyone tells you that somehow
love will find you
when you let go of hate.
Everyone is wrong.
The stars spin
in their slow, silent dance;
the highway sighs in the distance;
the moon rises slowly as it had done
for thousands of years.
"Speak!" I importune the stars.
They do not answer.
"Show me your light!" I implore the moon.
The moon hangs there,
still,
among the darkness of the stained sky.
"Answer!" I demand of the sky,
and the sky says nothing.
Twelve months of solitude,
of emptiness and silence,
hovering over the abyss.
I have looked into the abyss.
The abyss has looked into me.
And slowly, like the setting moon,
like the way a fever ends in peaceful sleep,
I begin to fall.
Oct 14, 2013
Oct 14, 2013 at 6:44 PM UTC
you’ll never feel the bite of pain
that tears the skin from bone
nor the aching loneliness that
scares the heart from home
the absoluteness that leaves a hole
where nothing is able to hide
while driven by the loathing
birthing a life to the love inside
no matter what the circumstance
you can’t negate the absolute horror
of wanting what is begged for
there is no returning the honor
I’ll whip my self unmercifully
until the end of a perfect day
even while you subjugate me
my scars upon myself just say
how much you intended to deny me
all twisted parts upon me are a whole
crisscrossed upon my body are the marks
that give you access to my soul
Mar 3, 2012
Mar 3, 2012 at 7:05 AM UTC
These are the end times.
Judgment is coming
For our iniquities and apathy
For the ****** of the unborn
For worshiping money
For voting Democrat
For buying non-biodegradable products.
Or so they say.
I don't enjoy discussing
Or even hearing
About eschatology
When and how and why the world will end
Which is what seems to pervade the air at home
Every time the conversation suffers an unfortunate lull.
Some cathartic culmination
Of a Deity's wrath
No doubt for all the
*** drugs, and rock & roll
Humanity indulges in
On a daily basis.
Hearing about the end --
Demons born to women
Automatons wearing human skins
Talking animals
Seems so redundant.
The signs had been here all along.
We've been living with them for ages now.
What if
Instead of a violent, sudden cataclysm,
The end comes
As an implosion
Drawn out over billions of years?
What if the second law of thermodynamics
Is the prophesy
Doomsday prophets overlooked?
There are no aliens coming
To **** and subjugate this planet:
We're already here.
This is the end
We've been simmering in it
Fighting and spitting and cursing
In puddles of our filth and hate
The end has been unfolding
For the past few millennia
As humanity continues to multiply
Like rats beneath New York.
And here we are
Making plans
Getting married
Hoarding money
Getting **** drunk
Too busy preventing
The little apocalypses
Of our petty lives.
We're planting gardens
In the shadow of a warhead.
We all saw it coming
We were just too busy to care.
My world's already ending
In bits and pieces anyway
At random intervals
Every time I let someone in
And she inevitably leaves
Taking a piece of me with her
My sun dies in agonizing degrees
Even a quiet infatuation
Eats away at me
Crumb by crumb.
All those theories about the end
Forget them.
I'm living my own apocalypse
And surrounded by human-sized
People-shaped versions
Of the Four Horsemen
So shut up already.
Aug 11, 2014
Aug 11, 2014 at 11:05 AM UTC
The ****** handed, directors of war, surgical precision fascist bone saws
They set up the stage , put up the walls, sold us a story subjugate the poor
If you deviate from the script, they say its depression, go and swallow the pill from the medical profession
Lobotomised the nation, repression of expression, robots playing parts in the theater of oppression
The theater of oppression is a great deception, using smoke and mirrors, classic misdirection
If you don't want to play that game organize protection, to stop you falling into systems of oppression
You don't have to follow a lead, you could improvise,
sharing skills with others, improve all our lives
A carnival of connections where everyone can thrive, why stay chained on the ground when together we could rise
So to the misfits, rebels and the freaks do not be scared to get out there and greet,
Perform the oppression to people that you meet, as any journey starts by standing on our feet
And do not be scared of ridicule, don't you let people put you down
We are living in a circus, so bring on the ******* clowns.
Apr 4, 2020
Apr 4, 2020 at 3:43 PM UTC
Darkness abhors the light
As its true reflection it sees
It cannot stand to see itself
Or see the light in me
The darkness comes with belief
That it can destroy the light
Yet all its plans get washed ashore
Defeated by my fight
Confrontation with the darkness
Is not an easy battle won
But I’ll shine my light upon it
And watch it as it runs
Darkness comes taking many
But backfires upon its own
As those who are left standing
See where they shouldn’t roam
Apr 11, 2010
Apr 11, 2010 at 7:01 AM UTC
soapbox man has
measured the moments
in the the small wood floor room
she dose a wet step soft shoe little hip swing dance
to music only she and god can hear
and to her soapbox man is god
as she slides slowly thru the dense air of his self contained contentions
in the the small wood floor room
its freedom to her
soapbox man has come and she is here
to get her fix
of his brand of guns to subjugate the dead
and iron fist rusting in a vacant lot brand of rule
its freedom to her
echoes down the bridge road between realitys
a woman laughing in slow motion
the tread of boots on marble
oddly distorted pieces of conversation
that are appended to soapbox heroes
who preach
that those not with us are against us
and should be punished for their cruel foolishness
this is not heaven
its a place that wears the face of grace on earth
it wears the mask of memories warm and kind
its peace and freedom to her
its a lie
this is the nature of the human beast
what reality we dream is pleasing
no matter how toxic
in the the small wood floor room
she dose a wet step soft shoe little hip swing dance
to music only she and god can hear
and as time passes
and it eats from within
she falls to the floor
and crumbles to dust
a fragment of humanity
on a pergo floor
and its freedom to her
Aug 11, 2013
Aug 11, 2013 at 3:01 AM UTC
Don’t stare below,
The heights to a higher place affright you.
The ground shook, the air frigid,
the people stood in shock.
You kept your balance.
you threaten to descend,
they send a plea,
begging you to ascend.
The others, calling you
to step off the ledge.
We’re not fools.
This isn’t a test,
We’re sorry you let your guard down,
Don’t let this get to you.
You’re not misplaced.
Risking your life,
Benefiting the satisfaction of others;
Won’t solve your problem.
Evaluate before you subjugate.
From your distance,
They’re just little specks in the concrete.
The limit is the sky.
You can become what your heart desires.
I’m cognizant of the stranger’s honest opinion,
They barely know who you are. They say what they’ve said before.
Why not change it?
Show them you’re incredible.
Prove to them you’re not a failure, be their friend - not their foe.
Explain to them what brought you this far,
I’m sure they’ll be happy to assist,
Give you a helping hand.
Take your time, I’ll be waiting.
When I turn back around,
I expect you to come back to me.
We all care, dear. It just takes a moment to find out.
To put your faith back and restore your trust.
We all have a purpose; you just have to set out and discover your own.
Sep 23, 2012
Sep 23, 2012 at 4:04 PM UTC
3am, the epitome of perpetual night.
The hour of the wolf in sheep’s clothing
Alabaster clocks, ebony needles for hands
Walking to one-second beats on dripping wall paper,
exposing the blood in the house and meat in the pipes.
I see shadows of the malevolent past:
Rings of smoke and cum-stained magazines
Lies woven into eyelashes, sealing them shut
Bleak figures made of shattered glass
Transparency, their only truth.
And dawn shows the new day
A stage of light like sweet Arcadia
The pages written for me to walk upon
Every hour summarizes a year’s worth of turmoil,
an abstract of vicious malcontent youth.
Standing against usurpers and cattle-branding parents
I will not allow the false punishments to continue
Nor the raging strangulation subjugate my woe
Sweating fingers penetrate the holes
All while pleasure and pain in endured.
As the sundial strikes noon, life meets the middle
Leaves falling off trees while amidst the winter
Hands tired and dry; legs crooked and frail
I will wipe the dust of my friends away from me
Like nothing and everything in between.
The tomorrow won’t come this time
The prelude to eternity will be a last gasp of air
And I’ll welcome the suffocation like a lost brother
And abhor the condemnations like a pious father
And I’ll think fondly of that fading mother
As the light of day segues to a haze of fire
I’ll take those reluctant steps that I must
Ravel my life’s threads into a warm coat
And I will meet you at that cold and violent dusk.
Jan 2, 2015
Jan 2, 2015 at 12:30 PM UTC