Tired of dull ages, I walk the same ground,
Collecting the tragedies still
Hollow ambitions in a hollow mind
Carried my cross to the hill
And how I lust for the dance and the fire
Deep of the nectarine sunset to drink
Spill me the wind and its fire
To steal of the colors of night -
( under the moons reflection)
Shattered hope became my guide
And grief and pain my friends
A pact in a blood-ink penned
Declaring my silent end..
Naked & dying under worlds of silent stone
Reaching for the sun
that used to shine upon us ..
And how I lust for the dance and the fire
deep of the nectarine sunset to drink..
Spill me the wind and its fire
to steal the colors of Dead Eternity.
Time will be my master
in this laborious human existence
Black clouds embracing the soul
Slowly passing through,
repeating lacunas of anguish
When time takes our life
Transferred into the bare grip of thinking
Voices frilling the emptiness of the dead Floating seamless across the surface
into a chilling stillness ( tranquility)
Nothing can help now..
December Flowers sprouting
Towards the rich archaic heavens;
towards the black diorama
We are the artist & the texture
that manipulates the canvas of the Earth
When the bleakest of poisons
lie rooted to the starched stones
and roots that feed the peaking trees
embrace the sleeping shores
Archaic pearls of sleep and death
the voice of December losing its breath
The floweryard of white & grey is haunted..
White as the down of flaking snow,
the heroic emblems of life
cornered in a symmetrical design
Sphere-like entities on a sea of rage...
We are In Flames,
towards the dead archaic heavens
In the landscape of a sorrowfilled passing..
©infj-loki
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