April, night-tyme
And we run like muscles
through the stagnant nodes of humanityk
Blood-bridges lean towards the gaping synapses
to disarm the stars within us.
Hornet Hive-dark!
Severed wings in vainless beating
buzz out from an inferno of fangs
to disarm the stars within us.
We should have been
so much more by now.
Too dead inside
to even know the guilt.
Waning! Ring-deep
in a halo of thorns
Slipping now down in sheets of sharp silver
to disarm the stars within us.
©infj-loki
A