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By Marshall Hann Submitted by Blessed23 Date: 2009 Jan 28 Comment on this Work [[2009.01.28.15.46.24680]] |
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The Breast of History can not contain my desire, or my egregious iniquities long enough to consume this prurient decision to dream, wildly, of chaos and catasrophe transforming this transient existence into a manifestation of silence and plastic placidity. It can not tame this consolidated heart that has spawned inviolable thoughts in the warm blood flowing, strangely, through hungry veins and an awakened mind You are noble, incorrigibly beautiful, and yet irreversibly abhorrent to the senses When I wake and hear your tongue click "Tic, tock tic, tock." You have no catharsis, no way to bleed out the poisonous pain that is consuming this silence with sick serenity, you are the paradoxical panacea extending a broken hand to any who would listen (A hand that resembles silk draped over people and nations: harsh creations, abrasive to our Our stumbling serenity) So lay down your judgments, let your crown gather dust on the warm ground, lay down in this bed of crisp dew, let me see you naked in all your splendor: Open your legs wide, and let Me dig out your soul |