I was a statue in my childhood
I was a statue in my lighted childhood
Given over by mild-demons
Swinging from the ceiling; smiling
Their sweet releases unto my neck
Waking between the curls of my crimson bed
Bedded with the silence
The oak-sprung door was a chamber
Unable to the feel rapping of the noise
From outside
Candles bounced the walls
Flickering violently that sung
Melodious chantings of grays
Piercing to the inmost reaches
Of a soul, not developed
But peace was throughout
There wasn’t foreign properties
To tie the knot and hook
Gangling like a weather-beaten whore
Circling round like dire wolves
Ready to devour with fervor
And yet, my conscience was a tomb
Leaves that draped the air
And make it a conduit of oblivion
The rivers were bleed dry
The a heroin vein
But my reemergence has been a wedding
Waves that envelope all the webs and roaches
Clearing all out; but never white
But a glorious red, made of blood and fire
Where the pain is mixed into the mystery
Swimming in the misery of a human condition
Taking the mirror to my face
Realizing Im still alive
And possess all that
So do I accept all of it?
Of course I do
You must be the hero who holds you up
That’s all one can do
Because when it counts
You must be a father and mother
And child and dead loved ones
All of existence, wrapped in a blanket of entirety
You must be the ONE MAN
So love, fear, pain, hate, adoration, kindness, and all else
Will ring in you like a bird of fury
And I, will be one who holds myself in the wee hours
Hoping for that moment
O, may it come in my lifetime
That I can witness the stars plucked out of the sky
And see the vision that sets fire to the moon
