Fresh blood currents pump hydraulics
Corrupted by circumstance, but pristine within integrity
Beauty in the beholder, my magnetized eye sockets
And miss. I do mean with all sincerity
Your untapped treasury weathered and cultured
Finely tuned, shines marbled sculptures
The steps to your temple stained with gore
At the base stands jealous Babylon whores
Confining voice accepts my tragic winds
Flowing west my foolish sins
A mecca of worship I have never been
A state of cowering kings and ruling queens
For now we acquaint behind electric screens
Connections stitched with faulty seams
You are welcome In heart of thy tribe
Pave your way humble sage, observing scribe
Cleanse my filthy hands and dirty feet
I want the white light of which you speak
Caught fulcrum between weighing scales
Linked chain mail mesh of Mayas veil
Your worried eyes drip with sadness
In wake of dying morals and chaotic madness
Need not fear for I share the same
Sight of fucking bullshit and circus games.
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2 comments:
*ahem* its babylonian, actually.
...yay!
*lights cigarette and lets out a long, ambivalent sigh*
thank you so much for this . i wont forget it
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