Tuesday, 13 April 2010

The Funeral Oath

Take the funeral oath with me, my friend
and let them wonder what we came here for
I'll never promise anything again
once we've passed through that open door

I want to spray you
with something chemical
and wipe the indifference off of your face

why are you so reluctant
to let me lap the blood
from your open sores?

I witness great fires burning
fueled by the bones of civilization
dreary black smoke rising from exhumed culture
melting the eyes of the population
eyes plucked from saint and sinner alike
crying white, pustulant matter
they turn to regard me
bloodshot and cold

Snaky crawling things like cords
wrap around my mind like open sores
bleeding monsters herd me to the place
I stand before the open door

What apocalypse of betrayal is this?
What foolish piece of wisdom and self-preservation led us to this desolate and impure place?

I should have held the hand that was offered
should have kissed the lips that trembled
should have left this empty nobility to burn with the rest
and bedded the monsters of my own design

without the courage I have faltered
and will come to you no more
just pour my fire and dry my eyes
within sight of the open door.

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