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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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