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| Subject: Song of the Black Swan | |
Author: Sasha | [ Next Thread |
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] Date Posted: 14:37:13 10/10/07 Wed ![]() And death shall have no dominion. dead men naked they shall be one with the man in the wind and the west moon, when their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone, (Dylan Thomas: And death shall have no dominion) Song of the Black Swan Forked tongues spit fire unto the night where the lost drink shadows before dawn, and they boast of how far the angel fell, all too beautifully by their twisted hand his side, stained by the dark of woman, long shadow stench dusts off her minion and bows low to the leviathan, and her lyrical sycophant steps up to the mic preaches to many, so full of his own opinion, and death shall have no dominion. They milk the moon of darkest gossamer for the strutting inchworm born of mud, and they turn their warted backs to the light as their choir squawks its chorus, off key, how they struggle, with jelly spines, to stand clamoring to hear filigree come undone crowns slip, to choke the breath of knowledge from the shriveled breast of leviathan’s bride and they of mixed stature will face the longest run dead men naked they shall be one Truth comes wrapped in tribal mink, dripped to skin as thigh high boots step her velvet-woman-singing and she laughs as they squirm in their homemade filth their tongues split wide open to spill the sickest ink wailing to a moon that turns her back in shame the hidden children of dark hollows, swoon while the pearl tattooed inner thigh of light, speaks in karma tongue breezes to soothe the wicked, and midnight drips slow and sultry to a southern dune with the man in the wind and the west moon Dare they not dance in the shadows of dream where the elements mumble their voice in corners the promise of trespass will see them soon blind swimming in circles where flames dance on poles sinners and schemers sit high on the mountain self-crowned deity, seeking prey to swoop upon but the willow eyed, smile wide, as the mountain crumbles there’s nothing so satisfying as watching them fall darkness bleeds thick to the song of the black swan when their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone © Sasha ‘06 [ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ] |