they may never stir
from their hell
in the far end of heaven
they descend from
the terrible august crown
of God
from a pen of flaming fire
like cellars holding
reserves of smoke
they make a nest in your memory
in the periphery of your antipathy
some have human heads
& bodies made of maggots
but their souls are made of flame
one which devours & absorbs
one which merely devours
another which merely absorbs
& another (myself)
which devours fire
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Popular Posts
-
you can tell an ideologue by the uneven distibution of their rage
-
Light Scrape: Number of keyboards to produce the universe : Fallen This photograph was taken in Nuuksio at Mustakorpi on February 21st. I c...
-
my interface there is so meone inheav en connected in a digital dimentia ultra violet sequence plasticity and i am two connected to you thro...
-
ammonia anymore the ground-up tops of your key cannot handle a directory you screw into being easily translated into fiftee...
-
all gone out to hide since I relished aesthetically pleasing sandpit with being reminded of wine this mixture eventually led me to...
No comments:
Post a Comment