Take it by closeness the guilds churning a man just
ate cotton. The liquid squad such fever the dungeons, a past with
straightjackets, a memory of surefire potential—told it was coming, never knew
for
certainty, along a path, fires and hearts.
Take it by souls, sure raven gravity—those screaming
welts the innocence bled unto fury, rage, vengeance—the skies falling,
enveloped in terrors, was it ever up there?
Stolen mulatto. Asian geisha. Stories sold—
lights
in bass those on cellos most floating into wilderness.
European
locks. Jewish heritage. African drums.
So
disconnected. It finds itself. Much in travesties—the kingdom of humans—it had
to go wrong.
With pantomime the climb is horrid.
With ventriloquists, lips might not move.
In those feelings, dice, gambling, the sin, so hectic
so sweet so much error.
The budget is soft—the irony is incredible—so close to
illumination—the grave of the excited, the humility of the sage, the laughter of
the cages.
Yes!
it went wrong – it has since its beginnings, losing as
we won, hand over fist, drama knitted in traumas—the bronze in the face, the
violin meaning much, the cultural slaughter of the tribes; made more problems,
more disrespect the past outlined in clouds; violet pride, penalty of the turquoise
rose, at anger with a flute, better, a harp—the demon as it comes, free agency,
while everything went wrong; begging a question, so much begging, to ask, if
the leader is in charge?
Haphazard!
Does it give meaning?
Chaotic!
Does it drag the person out?
Clarity!
Is it deceptive?
