just an oven of words, and burning butterflies,
circling acts of angels walking, they all carry lies,
their flutter in flames, now they sound so lame, yet
i am fed all the same, by the burning signs that
heave a hiroshima purl, to ash me over
after all, i never listen, because i know the drill,
nebuchadnezzar's thrill is in the heat they haul,
and the speak they shake. i feed on that oven of
wooded words that turn men into worms and in the
charring, spew from my tongue through chrysalis-burn
take my servility with you in these deranged games,
you can call me names while i stand up straight.
look into my eye, let my steadiness be a rock if you can
try taking mine from me and you shall see the wind in
the heat fans the blaze of your weakness, oh fiery one
seasofme231116parallaxis
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parallaxis
Poetryparallax /ˈpærəˌlæks/ noun 1. an apparent change in the position of an object resulting from a change in position of the observer 2. an appar...
