A Corpse Decomposing

A Corpse Decomposing

Balloons

of fate

split

so diverse

touching a wound

so silhouetted

pouring my waves

so ironic

into thy circles

of His winds

so wicked

I saw

ya I saw

heresy laments

of the golden cows

did stand

by some magnetic lambs

on that raspberry shore

for the stray Cross

at the edge

of the world

lost

The looped kings

of ours

ya they've been

they were howling

beneath the opener

for the boxed dagger

in thunder

calling for the witnesses

over that promised hill

on my new-year's eve

deafly doomed

along the sunset

so glaring

and I sure was

out of my breath

Crippled restaurants

clung solely to my eyes

ya they did

they shot my naked wonders

through the distance

of His rhetorical advance

or a vision

of the seeds

that once were

straight laughed at

by seasons

without any reasons

in the mist

called Heaven

With His sins

the Birther once knew

rolling on and on

in ancient clouds

or futures outburnt

so forgotten

my nerves

so velvet

saw

my bluebirds

singing

under the universe

stepped on

by His own

absence

lost

Stripped ashtrays

over my bones

did vaguely request

my lone avenue

which had allowed

the heresy laments

of the rusted cows

to never firmly stand

by your majestic lambs

on my raspberry shore

decayed

for the Cross

split

at the edge

of the world

lost

for the life

　　　　　　　of me.