Beautiful Rune
as sun and dove devour bat and moon
if we tay on this road we'll find religion soon
i plant the seeds that flower in veins
and destine down blacklit bathroom drains
of sacraments and ends
dead in a ditch death is the friend burried
beneath drugged skin
my stand become a lean verse cigarette machine
could cocain candy consoled crippled
children cavitated
the tears of flesh death burns
now a miscentered mantelpiece in a
porcelain urn
but what words will whitched sing
while warlocks pluck away all day at their
broken heartstring
i took some gun from some sick hand
said " count to ten"
oh "one two three...."
"fuck it i dont care"
and all of us widowed wives
discussing dimensions in dream homes we hide
and its not fair
these affairs are all i had its sad i had to lie
forget it
i get it
i guess its true id make a boring bride