Once I climbed the top of the hill
I took a look at the bottom
I imagined what it would feel like if I jumped
The distance was vicariously my thrill
I have to admit it the scene was bloody pure
My died pile lingered discomfort toward my love
I saw their sad eyes twinkle my past lumbering quest
All their questions and unanswered thoughts were
Once I drowned in the water at the river
My bloating corpse sank then floated
I was lodged under a boulder and I fed the water
I felt like I was a wilderness giver
What tragedy in my vampire blood drinking gulp
I stood roosting on the victims lifeless ooze
Feasting on flesh that hovered cold in the raw fall
If I thought I’d lose then I’d disguise love for pulp
Damn these modern eyes swollen shut doors and fulcrum
Here high upon the street’s blood, the heaven steams like hot glazed boredom
Shine here for ever into the dark stars and the misfortunes
Die well my unforgiving settler stealer pin wheel before you knew
Mark my unbelievable ways, mark my unbewildered days
I’m here for unpiled portrays and let the hinderance be done
Shine into tomorrow’s haze, shine unto the fearless gaze
I called for many ways to mock my indifference to be one
Sing this memory to the winter, to the summer, to hot and cold
Speak more like knowing is our only instinct- our only moving
Pot smoke lingers high-rise and smudged soul chant bellow morbid mold
Difficult to be rich when poor blankets are selfish enterprises grooving
Once I climbed to the top of this old and ancient forest
And bid farewell to the people who roamed the deciduous
These seekers and listeners of shaman rituals bled for us
Ignorance fidgets through the now paved lines in ridiculous
My pants are on fire from squatting in the flames at dawn
The heathen mist and morning dew breakfasted my yawn
What I asked as I saw these naked spirits flash their spawn
I creatured unto the demon doors with promises once called upon
Fetch the spearheads as light fades my time through pleasant meadows of moon
I can hear your hugs as we say good night to the shine on the lake as we call off our own
Blood me a passage to guide my lost gashed heart like born through the climax at noon
We are the cold passionates driving the wedge deeper into the mountains sleeping tune
The time is like, as if, we were to encounter our birth and death in untimely simultaneous triumph and defeat
Here we sit WICKED

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