By Ali Date: 2007 Nov 29 Comment on this Work [[2007.11.29.09.31.29768]] |
The dream-red fear fell, like an eclipse over a sun I couldn't see, and it was a quiet disillusionment, two parts love and one part liar, and then just stir, and add disaster-- trust me, you don't want to witness the genesis of the miraculous monster that emerged. Joan of Arc, she fell again, a little less Eden than Eve, on a wayward pilgrimage to Babylon, stopped by a nonexistent prayer, and every space was laid bare, thrown open only to be thrown by the way it went-- No matter that it was something wicked, and this way was the way it came. No matter the rebellion in heaven, in pursuit of a hell that burned with a bright copper promise-- this love, it was a fool's paradise, and sufficient to stand, I did, and I did not, sufficient to fall, I could, and I could not-- but when the moment promised pandemonium, and the dream-red fear fell, love emerged in another skin, the touch apple-red and full of denial: he broke, or was already broken before-- it is impossible to tell. |