I rake the sands 
of yesterday\'s self
into the glass furnace 
of crying tomorrow\'s,
half of what you 
seen me to be 
nihilist dexterity 
calling on all 
theological deity\'s
to counter my 
ardent crucifix 
tell me I\'m wrong,
you cause this 
obsidian zenith 
to cyclone within;
symmetry never rest 
in any vessel,
feed them lies 
cut it up in morsels 
spectrum oculars
reverberate your
opaque facade,
I\'ve bled everything 
into your kingdom 
of blasphemy now
soothe other dim sparks 
with cantankerous jagged 
tongue in cheek larceny,
so soon your taken 
misconstrued 
my bad for ever saying 
don\'t worry hardened 
I\'ve become,
thank you 
syphilitic ticks 
drain my kernel of dignity 
as he remains in the dark
yet he gets the best of thee,
as I murder the 
weakness of my kindness 
formaldehyde baths 
flamboyant braggarts,
thank you for 
dismantling my aorta 
yet igniting the ShÅgun 
of drawn and quartered paladins. 
Copyright © 2017 Whisperingquill. All Rights Reserved