deep inside of me
|
like castle spires
|
tasting raw earth as the bleed into me
|
at this darkest hour
|
the dogs have arrived
|
an industrial cemetery is my only offering
|
|
smell the dogs and bathe their feet
|
in the light they shall retreat
|
but the sorrows they have seen
|
must incite you to believe
|
tasting our scorn they turn away
|
from the ruins of our decay
|
but the sorrows they have seen
|
must incite you to believe
|
|
holding them so close to me
|
to cradle them in the softest breeze
|
amidst shadowed forest greens
|
now plowed away to starve their dreams
|
|
crawling now on wounded limbs
|
over colorless stone
|
and stained glass debris
|
at this the darkest hour
|
i will join the dogs
|
a smothered howl is my only offering
|
|
smell the dogs and bathe their feet
|
in the light they shall retreat
|
but the sorrows they have seen
|
must incite you to believe
|
tasting our scorn they turn away
|
from the ruins of our decay
|
but the sorrows they have seen
|
must incite you to believe
|
|
-----------------
|
suffer the wild dogs
|
| Autumn |
