the second day of spring
old relics from the bygone days
what fire this that burns as eden sings?
the seven stars of light
this hurried world of kindred kind
all things bright
trailing winds more structural than I.
how many souls have dared such sweet malaise
as we appeased, above all else beyond
where heaven ends
so begins all chapters of our blood
to harvest scorn through menadione and dirt
face down as lovers
both curious and dull.
the second day of karma came the spin
the secret spoils of oil that hides within
each wretched curse for all who flower hell.
not from this place of anger unopposed
blue marigold alone above all greed
in darkness shared with all who cannot breathe.
this second day of spring
no side of truth to touch but dare to dream
all that Sunday holds beyond extreme
once all things bright
now ominous it seems.