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this wall a mother, crushed in hands and stomped by foot; clock tower's mercy, a thousand lyrics of youthful chimes. fondling screams, perpetual horrors, chrysalis skies and rueful hearthstones. sieved sorrow, carriage of palms; spleen of death, the sun a hymn.
words cradled in hearts, to spit or swallow; unmerciful humanness, arrows of flight. gravity a foe, an echo of a century; what breaks today, resonates throughout history. nightingale's beak, a tune carved; splintered prayers, fangs of a desert.
false ribs, calcified blood; poisoned blood and humdrum hearts; february farewells, sand of devotion; scarves of the wind, minds of chrysanthemums. fundamental scars, valves of whole moons; the sun a note of death, the moon a midnight rhyme of the skin.
a hair clip, last breath by the lanterns; there is no difference to the eyes of flames whether it be night or day- what is sunset then?- only but invisible trauma, what sticks through the ears, in pulses of weight. mirage of words, desert a holy place; bangled leaves, mirth of a beautiful fate.
destiny clad around wrists, ink laid down by fate's lips; what is a weapon except for the blood that pumps and longs for the poison love, a horn of the devil that remains stuck in the lungs. it is loneliness that is the satan, perfection his ring. tell me, tell me oh stranger, is not the sun in its burning self the best? and the oceans with its storms? is there not beauty in the broken branches and the fallen figs? why then do you wish to straighten your ribs to begin to see beauty in yourself?
#adropofhumanity
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