Climb the highest mountain, punch the face of god

Nightmares are beautiful and so are you

The epiphany came with eldritch eyes
And a smell that caterwauled the bitter
Nightmares into being.

Quetzal face with an acoustic voice,
Angels come in every shape and size.
One eremite to society,
A savior to minds.

He sings the aubade and his columbine
Fingers dangle before a slap crosses my face.
Chimera in temper, I no longer pray.

Dawn brings the susurrus of pain.
The bereavement of fools litter the paragon;
We are not fit to save.

Risible ideas, saccade the wind and
Stain our aubergine souls with stagnate hate.
We try, invidiously, to win.
Alas, we fall, supine into the death of morning.

Pernicious nightmares creep back up.
I hang stolid like a bat,
Waiting to prey on hyaline wings
The bleed a sinopia colored blood and I realize
That angels can die too.

They were aoristic and their aeneous bodies
Soon pale in the sun of death.

I feel peurile for my choices.
My whilom figure slants, I divagate into
The xanthous future, a killer.

Aplomb, destroyed.
Munificent beauty rotting away
To a cyaneous freeze.
The lambaste, not painful enough for my dirty sins.

I'll someday wake up.

3-3-11


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Nightmares are beautiful and so are you

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