1
On a dusty June Morning, I was awakened by fire engine sirens,
From a dream that featured a faceless Nietzsche and Lord Byron,
Warning me that lust is an ever growing anti-spiritual tyrant,
“It devours all those that it’s empowered” they said,
The air swirled with arterial blues and blood rich reds,
The surface started to pump something beneath me,
Amidst the floors convulsing, I felt my mortality pulsing and suddenly cease.
Was I alive or dead?
Was this unearthly vibration somehow contrived in my head?
The smell of the city swept through my room swiftly,
To my left, she laid in sweet slumber,
Another uneventful fling from last summer….
minemind said:
Nice.
minemind liked this
thephadedlife posted this
