Dancing crazed and forgotten; six halls one heart.
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One million ways to hold onto silhouttes. Ignored by tattered lips, broken calls.
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It's like you've run out on yourself.
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Split between death, good fortune and a staggering breath.
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A broken key for a faulty lock.
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A fevered pray for a dying flock.
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Like consonants without vowels.
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Jagged tongue wag, incessant stones passed- other hours merely forgotten.
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It is with a dream and a heart that we proceed.
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Not a thought to leave not another lifetime we need.
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And though we may look behind; this visions seductive glance, we will pick up our pride and loosen our impenetrable stance.
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Consonants
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| Hot Cross |
