Tantrum of a Dying Mystery

Tantrum of a dying beast Gyrating at a voluptuous feast, Tendrils of incantations whispered long ago Spell & dispel guilt from every visceral, callous heart Furious wells of hopelessness Bubble from below Each soul to touch his hilt Each soul denies his guilt Sand between her fingers passes, slowly, as the dark begins to grow Unaware of seeds planted, that now begin to wilt Unaware of the fragility of the show, And the fragility of remaining true; as the earth begins to tilt Drunk in passion, Drunk in wine: Drunk keeps you soft, but not benign Stay innocent Stay true Can they make it out in time, For the ones that make it out alive Are definite, but few.