Darkest before the dawn
Helix aflame from out the tempest skies spawn
My weakness
My heartache
Have ye' lost the will to foresake?
The treasures of entrapment?
Wide, the plains of enfamy
Deep, the skies of harmony
Pay tribute to the tributaries
That form tribunal rule to coax the masses
Their masonic glean
Their deceptions seem
Like gentle messages from messengers of good hope
Yet that which they rob from us, right under our noses
The noises, the poems that release toxic chi
And replaces with glee
These things God put here for you and me...
They would tread and mull those plains down...
They would blanket the skies with lights and chaos...
Betwixt the wicker hourglass and pyrite grandfather clock
Lies a cloak which you and I must wear
It blinds us
We have no idea
Just toward either we head
And when our life is up
And cloak is shed
We realize our allies have truly been misread...
Friday, March 26, 2010
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