saints are more complicated than sinners

the kingdom has fallen
and all our scars sing
hearts are disguised
and imagination persists
as we recreate
and re-create
lost wishes
and overcooked dreams

the sky is untouchable
as the sunrise denies
our cosmic copulation
and the cats are restless
as passion surrenders to reason

the eyes hang heavy
as illusion are organized
into simple spells
and as i sit here
and smoking
another final cigarette
all the unpaid gods
demand their dues



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