Waxing a Wan Prophecy

Gaping open raw war exhales vapors In the frigid gray stillness excavating My souls for the unseen harvest Reflected in the leaves desiccating Through walls of fogs pale faces stare And disappear like a random shiver Like a slick violin string vibrating sad -ness like a portent of a sickness open -ing shaking thoughts of unknown frontiers Full of four-dimensional forests and coasts Where skeletons recite rhapsodies ravenously Waving flags of unjust defunct empires wildly In the encrusted fear demons lend severed gospels Like laughing children without love keeping records Of my actions and their forgotten complexions Waning in the humid cold touch of misgivings But the voice warbles without ceasing warnings Releasing doves bleeding as they fall asleep Descending into a valley where darkness shines Limbs of unrequited hope desperately lunge For the throat emanating light salvation Indiscriminately reaping and sowing dreams Seeming real as wounds which never heal As flies hatch treasonous larva in the gash And a new century is born and scorned Now and forever have arrived starved Demanding blood on the altar of profusion Crying in concrete homes hallowing illusion Until the last angel breaks illumination...