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Date Posted: 08:22:36 09/08/01 Sat
Author: Chris
Author Host/IP: 205.188.200.43
Subject: In The Garden Where They Make Us Pure...

In The Garden Where They Make Us Pure...

Sit on the stone
Soft cold stone
It owns you
Complicates you
To do
What you
Dont know
You want
To do
Where the branches
Hang low
Down to the ground
The moss hangs off
Drips into the grass
It complicates you
Uses you up
To make you pure
Inside of perfection
Rapes you whole
Inside of your temptation
Makes everything feel alright
For a short time
The gardens fruit goes rotten
Birds wings fall off
They wither and die
Fall
Down to the grass
Decay away
With the earth again
Unhatched eggs shatter and burst
The babies come out just to see you
For a moment
All things feel alright
Everyone is fine
Dryness spells
Sells a soul
Of a reptile
As he feels the mold
His mouth hung open
The flys walk in
Suck in his juices
Physically rape his skin
His tongue is decreased
The sun sets in
His eyes melt inside
His skull as he burns
Flys all fly into
His stomach they burn
Acid consumes
All that is pure
Maggots drink honey
The mammals eat manuer
They all break away
Tear down like shit
The caterpillar changes
Deep inside his caccoon
His wings come out by spring
Then wither under the moon
This is your life
Its fadeing seconds falling over themselves
You wait and you cry and feel nothing
Just to feel alright
This is your life
Your complication
Your everything
Its fadeing
Losing steem
Just as your freind
Loses its wings
Descending to the ground
A howl
It frowns
Then dies away with you

-Chris Hudson september 8th 2001

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