Wake up for Mass And…
Liquid reflections marvel at the sun's zenith
this is a ballad of a phoenix.
If you could sleep until mass... you wouldn't
amass any more tears, any more common
fixes for your fears, you wouldn't sleep
in the shadows waiting to beget all of the things
you once held so dear.
We are composed of mere crimson.
But I must caution stay
Far.. away from Pandora's box, unraveled
ideas borne from trees may appear, and give
you the knowledge of the very life you
neglect to hold so dear, but at a cost if you'd
in plural, she seeps into my atrium like
blackened honey on the autumn moon
painted as a mural, sways of the brush,
tugging at heartstrings, keep your heart out
on your sleeve and use it to escape at
twilight when you finally decide
to grow wings
We are alone borderline empathetic lingering