Sunday, December 14, 2008

An Overcoming.

Midnight revolution of collective conscience.
Watch your step, there's death on the footpath.

And they overcame him by the blood of the faceless,
Nameless, unseen martyrs.

Dead in the streetlight; flare and gash
As the eyes drop. Down, in shame, in astonishment
The just deserves of a life spent in captivity,
The last reserves of a generation spent, spent,
Spent, mother fucker.

And what? They,
The martyrs and saints and holy men
All bow down, last breath's moment, bergomask


Clumsy eyes follow clumsy demise - a trick or treat in the streetlight
Glare and stare, fucked through the face
Staring into space, dreams dreamt and time spent,
All gone to hell in a moment of dignity,
A moment of nobility,
Flash and glare;

A moment of purpose and fight and all they had lived for
Overcame, by the sense of blind purpose, that shook
And fucked them through the face.

Cold lead, footsteps in the streetlight
They hear numbers, they hear an incumbent,
Despondent respondent whose shrill exposé
And drilling words betray
Their true motives and cause and all they had to obey.

Fucked through the face; is all
Some dead, some never alive.

Come closer you'll see the damage, don’t let the streetlight fool ya,
Buddy ol' pal. Them fucked through the face.

This isn't going too well, they'll say,
All too late, I'd imagine,

As one saint falls through the pavement
As one they become, drawn by the streetlight,
Overcome! They'd said,
'hold my head', instead.

Don't be fooled, my son
Life is forever if you'll only give it away
for a rulebook and ritual,
Obey the habitual
Ringing of ears and killing of questions.
One can be assured
Doubt will be purged, once one is


1 comment:

Anonymous said...

C´est vraiment vraiment bien