Tuesday, December 1, 2009

War, and the Sycophant


Come sweet breakers of the day/ come and take my light and stay/ in their place but gone astray/ a busy man and his wife crying.

Evening strikes and the muscles grow/ the mind the heart and that broken soul/ the past is a jealous ghost/ but she can’t live without us trying.

The heart that shines/ with flames and thorns/ keeps me safe, blowing smoky horns/ the only child that I’ve seen before is the Christ, who comes before my dying.

Reminisce, idolize that whore/ wood creeks on a bloody floor/ a man rises like a shadow at your door/ and your Lovers here, to find you hiding.

Midnight asks of love what for?/ tells me to keep watch by the shore/ the shower runs and the warrior roars/ a new father will keep his swords a' flying.

Twilight sparks for the sycophant/ a calculated masters chant/ the army rides those who can’t/ while those who won’t, sit suited deciding.

Come sweet breakers of the day/ come and take my light and stay/ in their place but gone astray/ it's a busy man and his wife crying.

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