We were fallen kings or queens;
With black souls on white sheets playing our life’s chess game.
Drained, famished beyond crying a million lives,
In the fight of instincts be wasted all the same.
Breaths blowing firm on our sails;
Taking us down the Lethe upon the scaly mosaics of hazy bath.
Your breasts be stone to my head so sure,
Heart so deceived and a stomach too sore from churnings’ wrath.
As night fell, sun shone,
Forests stirred, dirt puffed and beasts hummed.
In us dark room, we reflected;
To truths lied, muscles scorched, smiles wept and skins shunned.
The gates were broken, the wall stood still,
Hollowness grew better to fill.
Yet the lips, the limbs never pleaded to seal,
Schools lived alibi for truths so real.
They got out on a rainy day with dancing shoes on,
Returned home drenched in needs not tolerated to born.
With serenity for lunch, crime for dinner;
They couldn’t absorb, and vomited some more,
Blissful in pursuit and not in the trophy to the core.
Meats that surrogated the nerves;
Armed with those senses they fought to be beaten,
For their tale was not to be concluded but abandoned.