To what you said, on the yesterday,
I now recoil at the memory.
My mind will not stay still, my tears will not stop flowing.
My body shudders, while my hands shake,
My fears are what flood the Earth, with all of everything
I knew to be, the utmost tragedy.
Where was God, in my place,
Where was love, for my face, for my lips, for my ears?
Death and denial, go well,
Together, on long ships, through murderous seas,
And togetherness takes a bow
To a demon and his cause.
Love falls apart at the waves,
At what crested its tearful sadness at the shore,
Where our promises have all been wasted,
Fright and paranoia eats at me,
While I sit to bemoan my own ignorance,
My own destiny awaits me,
By a rope,
By a ladder,
By a chair.
If God is around, His hand will cease the action.
My woman, with her form basked in illness,
My beauty with her tears,
My love and its quaking nature,
Goes down to beg,
At my return.
My second coming, as Christ,
Would be the second coming, into her,
Were I not also deprived
Of my nature to meddle,
Of my nature to settle.