Darkened Invocation I
The darkened invocation of some masked mongrel, Living a life on strange hours, The fading light of nature’s cruel bindings by young subjects, Breed me off of a plant that’s plowed. The secret crucifix of ones uprising, A reflection of their life gleams through the faded light. All sights of signs shown through as your birth, life, and death. What life did he breed to find? The thrill of soft, mad children racing. Racing slowly, diligently, quickly, muckily beneath It’s cool, gloomy, yet vibrant self of the soft beckoning beach. We lie beneath the suns fierce streams of summer, What infiltrating microbes we discovered under purplerained moon. Constellations appear with the nights legions of mongrels. A staggering force of ruffians penetrates the night sky. Markings of our forefathers cast on the rugged fields of death. The pale, slow, and weary ellipses rotating slowly about. We now enter a chromeshaded night and a cooljeweled moon, Looking timelessly abroad my pale and rough shoulder, they shift. I see your eyes, like an iceberg set at sea, Ceasing hold of the wind, and shimmering through night, Eyes sparkle gloriously beneath the moon, Sealed over with a silvercrescent wind withering through, And we laugh like fierce, patient children stranded
In striking streams of youth under a tapered scene. We pay an ode, the moon in its rocky brilliance. Recall its luminous light shining through the darkness. Cloaks gleam through the scattered sky. A mass murderer moves through tarnished lights, Living on nights cruel bindings until we seek out death.