It’s Depth Went Unsung

The swallow opened its beak and the Universe shone from within it. “Only God kills, and he loves you.”

But of course. Utterly true. God kills, man whimpers.

Stars shone blindly, trying to explain chaos and entropy, but no one listened. They were never here.

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Woeful City

Rain beat synched
to a thousand steps
drowned by endless curtain
of grey and flounder

A drop kisses skin
messenger of above
indifferent to their plight
fall and be forgotten

Narrow are your streets
filled with mementos
a faulty light buzzes careless
scattering the alley’s shadows

Brick and mortar rot incessant
no one to pick the pieces
the rain shall sweep them aside
another memory down the drain

Heavy are the roofs
from steel rises high
to muddy shanties low
they can’t scare the cold away

Umbrellas stretch greedy
drinking the sky’s refuse
shifting under hesitant light
their faces remain unseen

O city uninterrupted
always falling to pieces
you grieve your children
swallowing them whole.

Dance Dance

The strobe lights winked without pause or care. My body was already moving by its own, Devil take me, the music haunted me to my very core. The dance floor was bundled with sweating bodies, writhing slowly, unrelenting desire. I swayed left and right, letting the beat drive a compass to my soul. Tonite was the night I burnt my fever up, bared it all under the disco ball, glittering just for me. I was a dancing maniac, a lover in heat. Our pledge was my groove, held by my two feet; I danced the night away, letting life and mundanity take a backseat. Groove on, groove on.

This Title This Title

Because I felt like it
When times were young
Because I knew of it
When ours was love

Motion carried me elsewhere
Until I had gone past nowhere
There it was, somewhere
But it meant I came back here

Was it all for naught?
Was it all for vanity?
I tempt myself thus
With the facsimile of a smile

Here we are, friends
Always on time
Never arrived
Dreadfully sorry

My memory is not what I wanted it to be
Full of clutter and odd, dirty, little things
Spider webs and rusty cogs
These wheels don’t turn no more

There was a point to be made
Maybe it has already
Then I aim to stand here
Alone as all of you

It will be alright.