|
This is a time for crazy poetry Sound rasping, aural torture Head clamped in a vise, ears pierced Shocks and locks clanging, horror shrieking No one comes until you don't expect Him anymore and look he knows the score He's grated on your nerves and Feasted on your hearing As he feasted on your eyes And swallowed you with lies He is the opposite of love Beware of making it mean everything Every meaning is a rule that Wallages creation with concrete and glue Gravity magnetism addiction Are nothing but afflictions of Denied desire I am on fire I am on fire I am an instrument in your hands Be careful how you play me And I'll give you all I've got When the Savior comes, who is He going to save? You or the rest of the world? If you think he's going to save you By annihilating your enemies Think again. He's been there, done that, he'll pass This time And if you think he'll come in form Of man, what then? No the savior is a spider spinning Webs none can deny And her hunger is a gravity And we are flies She wraps us in her arms and Sucks the juices from our breast Then she takes us back into Her flesh Enfolds us keeps us safe Transforms us in her grace And births us in another place As child of God light on our face And if we're willing our bodies Don't even have to die This crazy poet knows it doesn't Have to hurt to fly And she's still there filling faces So her bones don't have to crumble Don't you listen to her mumble For she'll speak a truth so long unspoken And break a vow that's ne'er been broken And you mght overhear a tale to make You come alive Do you think you can survive the Purge that's taking place at home Do you know who you've become Have you any other way to be than Lost and broken as a child untended Taken to the woods and abandoned Listen to the sky It has a trillion traces of the lives We did not survive.
|