Spinaled in an armored fashion Bleed the heart strings Dripping the black cotton It is rite as bodies principle My so mired thoughts

In the years of my youth, I was the principle of familial jo… The emerald that shown in that oct… Which bars crossed to show the bea… As a precious stone, unadulterated

As I slowly tread the boulevard At break of night; lights zooming  Bouncing the nightmarish foundatio… Oil demonizing the angel walkways Glimpses of priests and devils

Among those steeped in the crowd  Furies with psalms of plenty White lilies graft through Cracks in concrete; Heavy Splitting mind from hand

When my stars raise the alarm I am strung under the tree My knees beside my ego And I see how christ must of... But there the blood wakes from the…

These wings that drive my passion… Sometimes seem like they bounce The nightmarish space upon itself I see clearly through nimble knees Covered in sleep, A cradle 

In what bed does clarity sleep when the sun goes down? When modern reason has no just eff… And the beast is unleashed Is there sanctuary within the bord…

What if I could war against time? And turn all the dials back A seedling that has hope to become… A great wonderful flower Coming to find that his mirror sho…

Shout this dying light in fused be… Concocted a fever in a badger spel… Swept of a mask in a trembling cha… A hunt bleeds the ground swells Numbing the nose from nail

Should I beckon so long winds? Panting and tired of stolen trades Etching cloud furies and hill heav… Upon mumbles and mummy’s aprons While jack of sons spill up toweri…

When late my statue gleams a shado… Upon these weathered sea-side glan… Through rock and the bristling Of sun-scorched flesh  Though crowded fingers graze

Saddest day we gleam Though you shone late In catholic mournings I send You shine like Hyperion All moon beams and leaves of blue

Hungered in such sweet catacombs These bludgeoned whispers drip on Feeding on my hope on a rope I strangle in feasting stomach Conning my true angel 

My flower-wise passion drives You away to graves of my people That I loved and I yearn for They whisper secrets to me That collapse my person 

These roots that sleep beneath me Have been pulled up; excommunicate… Given witness to former occupation Layed abed with warm milk Lined with honey-blest whiskey