This eclipse of myself
Foreseen by captors of the night
Suffice till come the raging light
Almost a holy vacuum
Of peoples of new ages
Slowly setting up the stages
Wherein I lie like the bastard
That allowed me room to be
Whatever it is that I seek
And so when the passage lay
At the feet of peasants today
We may seem array
Or whatever it is
That calms you
That breeds you
Or whatever it is
That loves you
That leaves you
Come back nay again
For the passage has unrolled
And we head home
It was cold as I lay
On my bed lead with nails
In striking detail
Of my lover's last quarrel
In the scape in which I once was
And once was always again
It was because of myself
That I beseeched myself of duties
Lining solitude into the moving
It was cold as we discussed,
Of ice trickling down to my feet
To notice the crevices beneath
And to lay into my body
So vigorous and half-warmed
That we may enter such a storm
A storm in which we wait
For timing's just on its way
To close out our day
And to close it out
We must
Trust
I stayed alie too long
So I craved the wait
And so set my slumber down
The soft set of slumber
So delicate may it be
Oh to be
It left my body in increments
Segments of myself unloading
Until it may separate
First came my head,
Housing such violent eyes of violet
And thoughts of rashing dead
It leapt from the bed
So smooth was it
Oh smooth can it?
And that gave way to my shoulders
Where rested the best of my hair
And the broadness of God
Lined with marks of past lovers
Such a silent way of saying knives
Knives bleeding fine
The shoulders connect to the torso
As I hope you know well
Maybe you don't
But the torso lifts like an angel
The paleness relates heavily
To my loss of purity
The wings are my arms
Muscular makers of man
And divine creations of God
They tanned from the blazing sun
Bronzing beneath heat so clean
The devil and such may scream
They define themselves so well
Unto the skin they lay beneath
Protruding just to cream
As they lift us above
So high do they lift
Oh become such glorious sin
They lift myself to move along
To the side of the chamber
And move my legs as well
Oh the powerful legs
Bestowed upon me by Achilles
And bled upon by babes
Such rigorous fiction
In the cause of mediating myself
As someone less of what it is
The striking of a clock
As I sit on the knock
Of the bed once locked
The strikes in which a chime
Deadens around my chamber
Bouncing across this castle
The sound is full and rich
Like the men who sing of Emmanuel
And yet suffer such the same
Like the flocks of women
Adoring for a man to love them deeply
In more ways than one
Like the roar of a lion
Behind closed doors it comes
And just as she
The sound ripens unto my ear
Clicking the verbs into fears
Oh must the light be dear
In which we never spoke
Like calms of the woke
On hark on this
The clock continues in spades
Until mortal flesh is cut
Straight from its soul