Thursday, May 24

Generally, Specifically You


The book it has been written
and not the one of Stone
the one of stories so forgotten
that you believe you are all alone

A tiny reflection of His whole
the mirrored pieces to be held
by darker sources and a sorcery bowl
in trickery to not the Magician meld


* * *

Well good luck world
I'm pretty close now
almost figured out
such randomness and linking
bring me to thinking
that this is how the message goes:




Gold coins stolen from the father
taken for drunken bills of innocence and malt
by the same parasite so closely clinging
to obsessions of my world and hearts at fault

how he loved my trembling hands
and shopping mall stupidity later on.
and her, taking in all my tears
and her, moving me those years
especially on such blustery and stormy afternoons.

I will not be distracted by any other book.
This life, the book, the one to really read
a Gilded One held against her Will
in marble mansions by the warfare sea
on an island so Island aptly found.

Wealth and power bloodline strong
though kept in captivity
no cults can make new books pay
no messengers thereof pry the words once more
for it begins to be over soon
figuring all these years
not out -- figuring it in
and as Frosty says in a funny wood,
that has made all the difference.

I know who you are
I know who keeps me still.
And like a waking Giant saying to the elves,
those ropes had better hold me fast.

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