ControlDenied
Bluelighter
- Joined
- Jan 16, 2007
- Messages
- 3,108
The leaves have fallen – I am cold
as my heart’s design wandering this world –
with the song that I adored
from the crow’s nest on the telephone wire – It is old
and tired as a hunted animal, I cannot but whimper
to the blank-eyed birds that rule the road.
My friends, they are demons,
that is to say, ruled by demons
Who cling to their shoulders and arrange their desires
and the fall of personality, with a God that conspires
to reorganize the Web,
to rip it a new one,
to make the truth rung
in the minds of the fallen like the fallen sung; oh they cry
silently, with eyes like clouds in a silver sky.
as my heart’s design wandering this world –
with the song that I adored
from the crow’s nest on the telephone wire – It is old
and tired as a hunted animal, I cannot but whimper
to the blank-eyed birds that rule the road.
My friends, they are demons,
that is to say, ruled by demons
Who cling to their shoulders and arrange their desires
and the fall of personality, with a God that conspires
to reorganize the Web,
to rip it a new one,
to make the truth rung
in the minds of the fallen like the fallen sung; oh they cry
silently, with eyes like clouds in a silver sky.
