Wednesday, February 3, 2010

Breathing the Apocalips

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We knew the trees would betray us.
We knew the Night would sing his song.

Oh, how Death has snuck up on us!
As quiet as a banging drum.

The land weeps slow and silent tears.
All hearts beating steady and strong.

Every pulse taps the melody,
As quiet as a banging drum.

Our blind eyes saw the cavalries,
Heard their voices shout, loud and long.

How we felt the deep blue tremble,
As gentle as a banging drum.

My, my, how our hearts disown us!
How they lust for youth and young, like

Whores screaming Infidelity!
As quiet as a banging drum.


--020210--

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