it has no name, the trouble with being drowned
she watches and waits with medieval song books
without shape at risk no longer but moulting
prepared to reap earnestly all that may linger
this is to be a night of warmest virtue that tempts me
those among us who were rendered devotional mishaps
as the days rise laden with what damage
that walks in a village to watch you consume
a frightened object that cannot conceal a fear
trampled insidious to shape the great walls
it reaches deeply to echo across the vile monster
who soon to be broken demands to be known
time has its secret that dissapeared unexplained
while force overwhelmed familiar shapes that light withdraws
telltale marks common to all cases covered
i dictated a formal statement and felt despondent
bullet canal took an upward course
forearm coming towards us, drawn on in bats blood
chapter house manuscript brought you a black rose
vacuum in a glass cup, becalmed pirate fleet
with muskatoons readied to redden your powdered wig
noone would know the key features in a beaker and round flask
tape indicates the paths specific functions
a storm hovers with thousands of cylinders placed into flight chambers
but who can tell a half truth stopped in its tracks
a nights shrouds deeper connection
homecoming living in the body of flies flickering
somewhere the presence exists of a worker
who lives within a ring of rapid consenquences
waiting to destroy this cascade of processes
yet lead to the threat, a polite way of being eaten
distant volcanic moon consumes its own brain
full of unrest, better described as dual identity
with a final gasp lurking bypassing the lungs
