The Temple Of Our Crown
Idols of death promise wisdom within the bliss of sleep,
We dream not for we are awake
I stand not for I am shaking
Awaiting grim realities to take on hold of me
Prizing sanity from my grasp
Clasping tight around the boundaries of my asylum love.
Horned spirits of the fabric night are rising
Promising wisdom alongside the kiss of death.
Sleep until the morning breaks
Feel the sun and rise awake.
College girls drive wild the lust of the poet in pain
Be my world, can you trust me, is this a face you can but your faith in?
We are as children bearing candlelight
Forming shadows as we dance
We are as children of the fragrant night
Chancing upon the movement at hand
Chancing upon a lance hope of revolution.
Piercing the skin of virgin flesh
Penetrating with insatiable lust the girls who trust us so.
Promises of false hope are scattered amongst the ruins of the fallen city.
Take no pity on me, I don't need sympathy
I need a friend who can make me happy
Even when I believe that all is misery
I need a friend who can make me smile
I need a friend who can make whole my soul for a while.
The temple of our crown lay in disorder, chaos fueling anarchy
Insane contortions parade upon the streets
Still this orgy of sweating flesh breathes a fresher breath than death.
Still death's bride is the girl I seek.
Will she be found upon her knees in glistening agony?
Will she be found upon her knees begging for mercy?
Welcome to the hive, the city thriving alive and breathing
What pity may be sought from the blackened hearts of industrial devils?
Who knows what goes on behind these walls,
The confusion of life, the love of death?
As Puppet masters purge the last source of life from the man machine
We are as denying the mother earth that bore us, the father sky that saw us grow
Below my tower uniform clowns are performing
Can you feel the storm clouds gathering?
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poem by David Lacey
Added by Poetry Lover
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