I
run and run from the wolves, but they catch me
eyes wide,
teeth bared,
like a witchy woman ready to vex me
and the snow and the rain when they mix
breathe an icey cold sermon
softly down my neck
despite all the times that i cry for my justice
across all the black rivers that we wade
like melted wax flows dripping off a platter,
the water puddles into words on a page
lost souls fly through the mist in an instant
and rise off the ripples, still far from existence
with persistence they say
all hands now
hold the handle,
dig the hole deeper with the golden spade,
till you're old and gray,
and you fall in what you made and the hole's your grave
and you're never coming back, hope you enjoyed your stay
nothing but sunny days
baby, welcome to the ghost parade
md
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment