Wednesday, September 14, 2005

The Grave

Come then, take this - it is (Something)
Come and tilt the ground
so that the dead rest level
they have that sort of power over you
with the streetlamps eternally echoing light
denying the night
pins hold the walls upright
but they still fall
demolition is the first thing that comes to mind,
but thats not right.

no one rests in peace, just pieces
show some more haste.

Stand before us all,
tell your prophecies
but if you aren't dying
what do we care?

The dead, with crooked halos
seem to glow standing still
let amends vanish
as the foggy air lingers.


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