11/17/18

Damn US


Depths

I have cold hands pressed firmly against a forehead of steel,
My iron strings are hollowed and freezing,
Electric are the nerves of my being.

You have a presence that bespoke of a realm of the real,
Archaic wisdom lost in space and time,
Electronics upon us in the age of crime.

Cold death awaits us,
The Iron child must die.
Glittering dust,
and smoke.

I have the worst of us within and without,
My love is frightening,
Lightning.

You are but a thought for which I doubt,
A love I had in my head at one time,
A love I wish I had now; sublime...

Coldness holds me,
Iron shackles bind me.
Flickering dreams,
and haze.

I have a burning soul,
My love would make a world quake,
For your sake?

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