Circadian
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"Circadian"
In the garden
I planted for you,
somewhere in
the unplundered
Territory of Hypothalamus,
I found a flower
who’s name was
You Wouldn’t Know the Truth
“God Help Us”
cried the lost
Praying Mantis,
“Hear this, the journey
towards Light
incurs a deep dive
into Dark Matters bleak,
there in the centre
of betrayal and lies
of unseen deeds,
sorrow and hell fires
that block all escape
through the soggy
tear-stained pillows
overflowing into those
other souls' dreams,
damned and crying,
lives falling like ashes
from ripped and scattered
dog-eared pages,
books and books of
unknown facts are found
when you float with her
down down down
in that awful half-way place, a boat
with Black Hooded Habit
stands beside her
on the never ending journey,
like ghosts you are all alone,
watching what she sees
mute in the loud silence
along the unwelcome
River Styx,
well outside the boundaries
of her dreams -
there you will find
what needs
to be considered
factual and habitual
continually beating
its telepathic message out
like a booming battalion of drums,
day in and night out it drums
and it incessantly bangs
peace out,
circadian,
a seed like a key,
bats chirping around it
with their sharp teeth
dripping canards,
a bird wingless
not an angel
bleeds, tarred and feathered,
torn it turns in a
not so gentle bed
in that old moulding
House of Cards
looking for the
one heart
that sees
hers
and turns
the key;
there inside
you will see
the only bloom
that is worth her
existence,
the one truth
that is worth
a trollish damn,
and there it burns the
reality of bitterness,
to spread a warm
safe unsafe blanket
over the roots,
stories, like veins,
hyphae spreading
and reaching
out and up to
the only
commodity
that through
Truth matters -
LOVE
tattooed across
the mind
and felt through
the darkness like braille
along satin skin and penetrating
the naked breast,
jigsaw words
spoken in tongues strange
and foreign -
there, thoughts
are finally
undressed
caressed
and silver bullets
kept for keeps
with ripe kisses
wet and deep
"What a crazy world this is", you say
"What an unlimited life", she says
"struth, that flower,
potent with the perfume
of its blatant message -
Love
is found through
Truth"
In the garden
I planted for you,
somewhere in
the unplundered
Territory of Hypothalamus,
I found a flower
who’s name was
You Wouldn’t Know the Truth
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
“And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.”
“All grown-ups were once children... but only few of them remember it.”
“It is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important.”
Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
Copyright © Lady Labyrinth | Year Posted 2020
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