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By coujeaux Date: 2003 Oct 07 Comment on this Work [[2003.10.07.19.11.3923]] |
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Disquiet; wail not, for the wounds, they heal, scarred overseal, roadmap of a sacrifice, Trace contour, jagged lines; they're chaotic, the designs, though the suturing's precise. Let me see if I can tell the tales of the trails of your travails; stethoscope to the source, Hesitation; slight murmur, indiscernable, then whisper, unreturnable, too far, of course. Strain when you breathe, respiration means to deceive, ward off relief a moment more; Want to surrender at last, cut this off at the past, but it's no worse than any time before. Anticipate; quo vadis, my love, up below or down above, ascend, pretend, surge, singe? Or has the hunger been sated picking carrion from these remains, shall we purge, binge? Extend a hand, steady fall, care to join me through it all; once together we stood, defiant, And as fast we were, not; risk it all for one final shot, or go it alone, by ourselves, reliant. Had instruction from a spirit on the cusp of collapse; who are you, sounding taps, proceed, Let ye not be fazed until every reserve is razed, nothing in vein 'til the last drop you bleed. Sit, ponder; way over yonder is a soul feels it's beyond control, never could win, so refuse, Reached a point of no return on you get what you earn but yet another opportunity to lose. Brethren in these spare parts, dented pride, broken hearts, somehow they all forge ahead, And nobody ever spoke of certainty but in the dash of a lifetime, flatline, monument, dead. Surgeon, precision, intrusion of indecision; to stitch in time, save or remove the stent, cave? Or to leave it in stitches, threadbare, to hemorrhage, still aware, barely vital, yet oddly brave? |