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FIRST Standing on the outside sheen of a blister's destiny We crawl inside, drenched and dried Confounded points of blasphemy Dare I say a daring phrase, succumb to peaceful vacancy The walls of skin, a new-born's sin The dying days of decency
A life of rest and a lack of sleep come crawling through the dim-lit lights So sore of breath and growing bones A tradition's death to free our minds...
SECOND Weaving through a failing fold, with night between her teeth She sits alone in embryo and tends her dying feet Another sigh whips through the trees, tease senses in lullabies Confounded compassion, obscenity, with embracement of ribbon-bow ties
Afire, the dream, a crescent moon hunger, the scourge of a mother denied Everything else that seemed to have mattered bled to a whither and died Dead light creases in a pale light's dress, she sings her song with her hands A woeful rejoice, another lost voice, she left for her sleep in the sand.
THIRD An unborn pleasure, my second-hand treasure, The ashes waltz, surrounding the broom Another cold dream, as far as I've seen, Has carried my voice to my tomb
Every night owl, my friends and my foes, Come clean as a widow's felt toes To the door and the sky, they wither and die, A redeemer's soft words, weakness shows
A hand and its harbor of a fate string slicer Numbs the pain above a blossom's wet dream A phantom, his master, and their collective disaster Has drenched the world, the stars, and their queen
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