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...
Copyright © Alex Roth | Year Posted 2016
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