I flushed my throat with chords and tore
my veins with words both raw and burnt
sung hallowed, hollowed, sanctified
and vulgar, vain and profane, love
I thought that I had had enough
but I had only had the one
three songs a day
there's time for two
more yet before
this pain is gone,
and I partake
in all the promised
perfect
practice
doesn't make.
But for some sake
besides my own,
I'll discipline
these steps I take.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Anything you have to say - question, critique, interpretation, praise or rebuke - is received with gratitude and interest.
If it looks like spam and contains a link, though, it will not be published. I will cherish it to myself, instead. Thank you!