March 14th, 2007

qotsa

new poem, untitled

necromanical evolution
defined by cloudy intuition
inside shady revolutions
of apocryphal contradiction

Metabolic consternation
Inside walls of yet unknown
Raise the flag; a broken nation
I'll give everything I own.

Broken stem of dying flowers
In a vase so filled with mud
Alone in a room with her for hours
consecrating sacred blood.

Spiral out in soft mute shadows
Go down to the path you seek
Walk up to the deathly gallows
and kindly give your life to me.
ice, jude

Time and Again

Time after time we are again found in the same old familiar situation, staring at the same old familiar screen watching our hero make the same old fucking dumb mistakes.
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