Revisitations
by Graham Myres
Searching for sickness we find mystery,
betray links back to blue.
Lend me being, horrible - meek.
Inherit nothing at all, hold onto a dreadful amorphous mask.
The last cave of confidence is, hopeless,
Proclaim your obscene long hair, walking with fingers through the midnight
of power,
whores longing for a taste of soul.
'Tiger, Tiger, burning bright' ,
Kill the light....
Relative dark, fruitful wreckage of night,
slow death and hunger await.
Real touch; now cold recipes abound,
and you should strike me while you
are still a slave...
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