Untitled
Dec. 19, 2001 ] 10:29 AM
What demon stalks this inner landscape?
Rosepetals splay out like flakes of old blood
Musk and salt and metal and death
Hush little child, now I hear Him
His voice, the roll of thunder
That constricts across the land
That beats upon the frosted glass of the soul
And shatters the disquiet birthed in the night

The cool metal kisses the blue map of life
And lets go, the supplicant falls
Graced by fear, by pain, by desperation.

wax ] wane
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