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Poem

Children of mine, I have little left to say
My bones are now the softest porcelain and my back is bent the wrong way
The eclipse of age has turned my black mane grey and the gaps wider in my yesterday

Children, Look away from the sun and keep your hand at the level of our eye
See the sun, she is a most seductive mistress
She will feed your deepest, your darkest desires till your eyes they bleed, your lungs they burn and your heart has turned to stone
She will build you palaces of emerald, raise you cities of gold, but look away, remember what I have told
Away with your emerald robes, cast aside your pride plated crowns
Reign in that viper living in your throat, for her destruction far pales her construction

Children of this age, the kings and queens of freedom, you questioners of authority
HEEL and listen to this old man’s squawk
My back isn’t bent from my age that has grown old, but from the heavy crowns I have worn
My skin, see this skin is marred by the memories of yesterday..what you'll call wrinkles
And my teeth, see some of my teeth are absent by the approximation of fists to the viscous snake that my tongue used to be

HEEL young volcanos, water down your fires
You did not build this palace and it shall spell the end of many after you
HEEL young kings and queens of the sun, for the night approaches
And at midnight, when our mother soil gives you her final embrace, taking you 6 feet beneath her belly, your Cinderella facade will finally..fade

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