Should Silence Sing

should silence sing

no offering for spirits of the dammed.

one drip of love

above beyond tranquillity of dust.

no thrust of demon walking trails through avenues with spade

to dig and glide four feathers to the bridge of accolade;

an acoustic sound astounded all who watch

a wishbone born and bred, as pure as ice

of mice and men

where elbows of the heart

disembark this climate to the small change of alert;

to the forest with no eyes

a skins disguise the flirting finger points

as far as north is bland and obvious;

no time to die

too busy in the slip-stream of attire;

desire lives and breeds as time betrays

it's days of seven dressed as green malaise;

make famous as an early worm of stout

and I will march through March

drink late the hours past a midnight slouch;

my bending spine 

tells me hours now grow shorter than a breath

that suckles on the breast I once obsessed;

my mother of all orphans such as I;

her swinging cord of afterglow

glows silent as the moss of heaven grows

through windows of the herbs of tangerine.

sprinkle me and bless my juices dry.

baptise my senses far beyond extreme;

no secret life have I beyond regime.

no torso has a clown

nor eiderdown for a passive man of pain.

cover me from head to toe

taste my breath and breathe as friendly foe.

bite me quick

the pastures of distortion all I have

to offer as remorse an aged man

who sings through pages whiter than the flesh

that scales the heights my fingers dare caress;

should silence sing

and bring an end this day of sudden Spring;

listen now the chorus of my heart;

close your eyes

listen as I sing;