– Analogous Eulogy –

So that song may be sung again

This is the standard from

which I base my taste.

Our favourite form of

rebellion is self-destruction.

Nature and nurture, the

differences between people.

Then call it something else,

at nineteen, I stopped counting.

I thought of becoming

a doctor at some point.

May we be wrapped around

until the sounds meet the colours.

She was caste in clay, before

being burried.

We seek attention, acknowledgement,


Smoke and talk until

we forget about sex.

Roaming the silent lands,

each thought echoes,reverberates

against the silence.

Is the soliloquy.

Sent in stone.

One for this reality.

That by boredom’s sake,

I would be wed to Deathe.

And awaken that sleeping name.

Touch, these lips.

So that song,

may be sung




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