rising from the embersof a moment lost to eternity…love is a healing touch,the nourishing hand,the echo of the selfwhispering from its deepestrecesses… and answering!love is murder… destroyingeverything in its path.love is a knife, cutting the soulfrom its prison of identity…love is a trash truck…picking up the pieces oflifetimes thrown to the curb…love is a broken…
drinking oil fromstyrofoam cups…the blood on your floorscries out from stagnant pools.you see no one,you smell no one…you cannot hear or feelthe cry of no one dyingin your fields, in your shops,in your sterile offices…your form of hatredbegins within your selves…you trade freedom and dignityin small shares over drinks….your world, your kingdom,is a house of…
fallen angelfrom on highfallen heartachefallen soulfallen manlosing controlempty bedempty armsempty dreamsempty heartempty walletempty handscant take nothin’from an empty manbroken promisesbroken vowsbroken spiritwont allowbroken fencesbroken livesbroken tomorrowsbroken nightsfallen, empty, and brokenevery road is the samebent, bruised, and shakenstill numb from the painnow you dont answerwhen i call out your namefallen, empty, and brokenwalking in the rain…fallen,…
ended abruptly withoutresolutionthe father or motheryou thought you’d never losethat you didnt spend enough time withthe son lost to a foreign conflict,draped in a flagthe abortion you opted forcause you couldnt seeany other way and now,years later, you have doubtsthe teenager who committed suicide,that you couldnt reach,somehow couldnt tell them orshow them they were not…
to open your eyes!
to get out of its box…in a low voice telling him,there’d come a time,there’d come a time!you smell good!we pass like familiar strangerswho’ve forgotten the wordsto the song…and the roar and the dinof the circus and its clownsdrowns out the silence!i turn, and take you witha glance, a thought, an inadvertenttouch…the cash register rings again!and…
eyes that never look upand feet that just know the way.small children running in a graveyardchasing shadows, silent and grey.an old burnt out house still smolders,bare limbs grasping at the sky.and love is an old bucket,rusted, leaking on the ground.that calls your name anddraws your facein a room that no one enters.there’s only today and…
but i can feel your hunger,your pain, can smellyour fear…just like it was my own.there are no wallsbetween the living,no self imposed barricades,no structured classes…there is only breath!and blood! and need!tongues groping for soulsthat taste like our own!
child of Cain, child of Seth,there’s no reason to believe…patriot games, hollow masks, stolen names,mountains crumble, acid rain,you gotta give to receive…man and feast, swear allegiance to the Beast,till all is done and all has ceased,the painter’s brush is ash.children lost, cant pay the cost,necessity rules, the truth is tossed…writing checks we cant cash.(we’re standing…
in front ofabandoned houses…empty mailboxesrusting to theground…empty swings creakingin the late evening breeze;a bottle of wine,half-empty,moans in the shadows.the fields have been picked,nothing left, but sweat stained dirt….even the embers have grown cold,and the pot is empty.the sounds and smells of livinglinger by unmarked stones…dead poets; old cars…running on empty!
