AS ONE.
How embarrassing you have become,
your scent too near the madhouse
sings its sorrows without any good motives
What wisdom has cannot be used
when what wisdom lacks is asked for
From the remains think yourself clean
and take the heart freed from words,
for the thoughts upon your path
where no one wish to wander
crawl down in the ground
where nothing can grow
and carve ruins of the years
to a paltry salary
in shadowlike kneeling,
in self-effacing moaning
Clean tears fall only in words
consolidated under vanity’s shelter
where they loved with barbed wire and mockery
to a great thrill for all our words’ tragic handouts…
Words to the sting, given joy filled lust,
to wishing wells’ finalized completions,
made to participating, present answers
Near The Altar of Fate nailed to remain.
Most alike the believed picture of you is hailed
or creeps down to another backlash reaction
and becomes its own conclusions’ executioner;
slanderer, and eventually the own wills whore
therein depredated flesh from the thoughts sit
as harrowed, in ridiculous unpalatable qualms,
hailing spilling, tearing down inherited rights,
while monarchy and democracy lie stupidity
upon a conspiring and deranged slaughter table
under imitation, unwanted shiny residues,
showing the highest heights’ devised murder
Spring water in swamps will swamp water be.
Poetry by 1 SIGFRIDSSON
Read 170 times
Written on 2023-10-02 at 19:32
Tags Wisdom Will Murder
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STONES
WISDOM!How embarrassing you have become,
your scent too near the madhouse
sings its sorrows without any good motives
What wisdom has cannot be used
when what wisdom lacks is asked for
From the remains think yourself clean
and take the heart freed from words,
for the thoughts upon your path
where no one wish to wander
crawl down in the ground
where nothing can grow
and carve ruins of the years
to a paltry salary
in shadowlike kneeling,
in self-effacing moaning
Clean tears fall only in words
consolidated under vanity’s shelter
where they loved with barbed wire and mockery
to a great thrill for all our words’ tragic handouts…
Words to the sting, given joy filled lust,
to wishing wells’ finalized completions,
made to participating, present answers
Near The Altar of Fate nailed to remain.
Most alike the believed picture of you is hailed
or creeps down to another backlash reaction
and becomes its own conclusions’ executioner;
slanderer, and eventually the own wills whore
therein depredated flesh from the thoughts sit
as harrowed, in ridiculous unpalatable qualms,
hailing spilling, tearing down inherited rights,
while monarchy and democracy lie stupidity
upon a conspiring and deranged slaughter table
under imitation, unwanted shiny residues,
showing the highest heights’ devised murder
Spring water in swamps will swamp water be.
Poetry by 1 SIGFRIDSSON
Read 170 times
Written on 2023-10-02 at 19:32
Tags Wisdom Will Murder
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
