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If you must cry for me… December 10, 2009

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No balm will bring succour to these lips
I am afraid they are too far gone
for they have tasted Theobroma
and its absence has left them worn

No gloves for these hands, I fear
they are far too callused to hide
for once, they straddled a Stradivarius
and now, these hands, they are denied

And shield not my eyes, my friend
the Sun can do them no wrong
for once, they beheld True Beauty
and its light was far too strong

Bleed, if you must, for this heart
for it could not bleed if it did try
for once, it bled with all its might
and now it hath bled itself dry

Take to it with sledgehammers
swim across the moats that surround it
and pound into dust, verily
the walls it hath built around it

And push some blood into this heart
help prop up this lifeless form
and will it flow through wasted veins
and pray that this corpse will warm

So cry for my heart, if cry you must
cry not for the shell that is but a ghost
for, of all the things I have loved and lost
of them I miss my heart the most

Untitled November 17, 2009

Posted by fungus in Uncategorized.
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Put your guns down; you are fighting phantoms
The Revolution, it passed you by
The fall from the stars to the gutter
all happened in the blink of an eye

The bedrock that you stood proudly on
was nothing but a pile of dust
and the iron fist you once ruled with
has rotted and given to rust

Your silk totem, once resplendent
now tattered, flies half-mast
for the ideology that held it aloft
has floundered, failed and breathed its last

And, behold! The Golden Army
now just old men with broken backs
The flanks have fled, the rear crumbled
under Time’s relentless attacks

And your enemy’s outline is murky and gray
you no longer know who you are fighting or why
And there is much soul-searching to do
but you no longer have the energy to try

For if you did you would be forced to ask
What purpose with which to greet the coming morn?
But you shrug your shoulders and realize
Your only choice? To soldier blindly on.