The Skeletons and Songs of Samsara - 1

The skeletons and songs of samsara eternal fleshed, fattened and flamed in karmic harmony, your heart begins to beat in dark plethora roll an in utero thunder thumps godly as the warmest water touchable enshrouds, you haven't yet forgotten the sojourn from whence the soul rests it's debts and doubts upon web strings of dreams from which we learn the beauty of blood and age of truth while an abacus of pearls and teeth is tabulated by the fingers of virtue's youth, many a continent and kngdom's wreath you've worn, on leathered brow split and proud in the vigor of day no cloud, in night's creep thought so loud, In the vigor of day no cloud, in night's creep thought so loud your yantra yawns to new life as you float in the mercy of a mother's mood heart endowed while the history of humanity's bliss and strife is being written in red within your head, the gnaw and gruel of genetic hunger shaping the anticipation of being flesh fed, the memory of your ancient museum fading in the hereafter, you begin to recognize the voice of a woman the one who sings like burning lilacs, suddenly trust is all you can taste in your isolation gravity is pulling the bloodstream into cataracts where the adrenalin of pain is naked, the body of your birth shock animated, The body of your birth shock animated let the world witness the tears of purity from a face too fresh to be incriminated a baby warm footprint stamps Babylon's equity you are now the currency of a banking matrix and a prophecy of liberty's rage, the milk and madness of a nation's Goddess dribbles over your desperate mouth, a sweet drippage, everything you see gives a moment of awe fear and joy giggle and grimace openly, the color of instinct is mapping your mind raw while the seduction of assertion is breathing brazenly in and out of an infant's eyes where nothing lies or dies, Where nothing lies or dies until you realize how the heart scars the seed of suffering you recognize in the anger of authority and envy of peers sensing that the theft of innocence is an ecstasy for those with bloodlust on the tongues of their primitive wickedness yet you, in your renewable nature robust play the game of pirate adaptation using violence to vie for the victory of pony popularity and rebel rejuvenation, rapidly learning that competition is the pathway to identity glorification, that happiness is conquest and the only law that can catch you is hesitance, And the only law that can catch you is hesitance so you run into the danger of daylight oblivious to the onslaught of consequence racing your friends to fear's fringe of delight taking trophies of laughter to the limit of loyalty and in the forest of moonlight dreams young yet ghostly lure you into reckless flight, the supernatural speaks to you through fire and the cuts to your virgin diamond are made by lazers of divine desire preparing you for the promise that cries in the heart where your naivety resides, J.A.B.