the wisdom of a spent notebook

babylon in the background
picture the best beast
lying on a red carpet
stretching towards
a grand feast
in the far east

reaching with delicate limbs
under erratic pseudonyms
i wonder
are you waiting to be consumed
by the white mistress of nothing?

life is not for sale

mortal coil
quick with
the word
i refuse to be
as stone hearts
are cracked
like a heretic

deviate from possession

when the half life is exposed
the shelf life has expired
true living begins

counterfeit, hypocrite
retrofit , misfit
with days like damp spiderwebs
we are
too insane to commit
too to stubborn submit



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