Jonathan Davis Knows The Name Of The WindA Poem by Poe Reddaw, my love for long titles. The love is vast.
schizophrenic shower scene:
he's paid full in blood and he's sleeping so empty his soul's on the edge of simply bleeding out he's dreaming in mordancy schizophrenic memory- he was begging for breath drowning and deaf entertaining the mortuary the spittle on his hands the serpent where he stands the morbidity of inevitable fortune he'll come to and dry but his soles are stained red and he'll pray to both sides of morale hale the dead sinister console the grim reaper and he's huddled in reverence now tortured souls can walk away and leave the sands confused as time fills the sodden footsteps that are paired across the dunes until one's steps pulls a tight circle and all the way down the other appears to have drowned in honeymoon xanax chewing the nails off naked finger flesh scarred, they twitch dancing with the strings of the scythe he crawls to escape denial he falls to speak with inner peace scatters the sands reconnects with the band. © 2013 Poe ReddAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorPoe ReddOntario, CanadaAboutI'm back!! Will update all this nonsense soon. Much new writing to arrive shortly. Not a place for children. more..Writing
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