Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Death is Anonymous.

Lunar essence affiliates all consumers of faith into a furry.
Sharks surround the hideous masks of favoritism.
There is no love in the dead pile of clouds.
Dust of shrunken feathers multiply
in vintage rose wood clocks
do they signify the greatest needs
of sexual desires
are ready to set off a bomb.
Time never lacks success.
It is humans that exceed in greed.
And only when the oceans run dry
that the harbor ships finally sink into fires
and we all die.

No comments:

Post a Comment