Published on Mar 25, 2012
yesterdusk your soul was truer
than psyche's gods who earthward peer:
ah, moon-shadowed dreams were newer
and early hearts beguiled each fear.
those yesterdusk dreams wouldn't fail
until the bridge of heavens cracked:
ah, silly as a lover's tale,
we hoped the saints held ours intact.
toward this crucible dawns led us
and fed with death those hopes we'd fanned:
our mad cosmic butcher fed us
angels' milk, with one poisoned hand.
love is the martyr's beautiful hallucination..
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