What have I done?
Saliva extends into the soil. Proclaimed.
Cries and whispers converge on the wall.
Punishment and sensitivity, pure steel. Mask.
I smell the horror.
And the branches whip the sky again.
Conductor of everlasting analogies.
The sun in the water, moon in the sand.
Chaos is the holy kingdom.
Grown unto flesh and bone.
Bright yellow great defining sun.
See what I have done.
Unleash the lion again.
See the trees grow.
Capsize the water unto you.
Bleed the hand of doom.
The stone marks thy word.
The wood holds the cross.
The flesh bites the glass.
The blank eyes, death mass.
Thus, the
flame is extinguished in the crib intended to be reduced to ashes. And so the
children play with sparks of fire and burned entrails. Is thy eye capable to
accuse the guilty letting the innocent free? The hand speaks gloom as it’s
dying blackened.
The water
into two.
Sprinkled
with rage, the collar.
Lie back
upon selfish betrayal.
Silver
coins under the dead fabrics.
You’ll take
the dive
The children
abused by snakes.
The sun
climbing up the hills.
Swollen
eyes to the sight of piss.
Hear the
unhearted cry out.
Kindred of
Frances, the sad.
Now take
the rotten opal.
Drive the
father insanely mad.
The stone marks thy word.
The wood holds the cross.
The flesh bites the glass.
The blank eyes, death mass.
I owe my
life to those to whom I owe my death.
I owe my
life to those to whom I owe my death.
