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.
Copyright © Jonathon Doodle | Year Posted 2016
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