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The Eves of May
Maelstrom, O thou devil Slither past last March then unto April Into the eves and ides of May Thou cannot hide, but thou wilt try To disguise thy age old blackness Forsake what once were brighter skies Stranglehold; sane extraction And the spills of night A new tone deafness Burning oil; sentiment molasses Bringing storms that cloud minds human and fragile Spheres of moonlit halos Become, no more than serpent spies Peeking through faultlines of life Dancing about to the madness limbo One lost soul... Shipwrecks against a sea And there too does the twist of tango Eyes of the deep; tentacles, touching me Elsewhere, the raven flies repetition Into glass windows Blood stains upon a faceless mask Drowns out the cries and the conscience Of feathers blacker that lie strewn Are the questions I have asked And the answers I cannot have Let slip feigned breath of man beneath A gargle from the cold tunnel brine What's left surrenders alter to its evil And nothing is, to evermore survive And the eves and ides of May Are Saran gas upon a mass of land Men of desparation hunger Eating flesh of man much meeker And thou wilst not again Glimpse thy rival sun Nor when it comes, goes Or finality, when it finds its done Inspired by the madness of Poe That which is locked within us all
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