Insect people
in insect world.
Looking for the queen bee
to rule for. Dying world
in a dying land.
The world leans
on the children
of the mustard seeds buried deep.
We are splinters of the code.
Of a world, and a creature making
mends by ancient strings of heart
bending.
The system of honey
from trees that was invented by
the leaves. Light can gather
in one strike. In this X!
Still we are more or less like bugs
Running around in this,
hungry world, looking
for the same things
only to come
out more
empty?
The bee is dying,
in your invention of wasp. The hornet
ugly and crass.
...and invent a new way to pollute
with hornet\'s mast.
The village idiots are out
to play king for a day.
The towers are silver and
-like high noon, or the spoon?
I\'ll watch another man
take his bride. And run....
into the X axis of all the mole Mondays.
Y would you?
Jesus on a cross in his heart
I\'ll dart. Across the night, in his watch.
I\'ll be, as the night.
The land is simple and pleasant.
I\'ll sit up if the sand in the hour glass
runs.
Y can\'t you find me.
Here. My dear, darkness
is sinking still. The snow
is black and my eyes
of black I cannot
see, reality.
In this figure of light.