poe
there’s a moment in time when the fire starts rising and the poems through the window are shaken to life. There’s a man in my bed that I haven’t invited a song in my head that was writ just last night there are words that they speak that I haven’t delivered and orders to take on my way back to earth there’s a sun in the night that lays quiet and sulking awakened by death as we crawl through the dirt I’m a flower they’ve groomed and a cherry they’ve eaten rotten in both and spit out again there’s a chair in my room that I sometimes feel watching a woman I knew who once believed me there’s a child inside that has tasted the summer the winter is gone but it never does leave there are lights in the street that hide ugly shadows moments I peek and can tell who is there there’s a fire inside that I’ve been slowly stoking but no one to warm here now it’s only me there’s a growling below that I cant help suppressing a warning reborn that they’ll never concede there’s a purpose somewhere that lies buried and dying a song to be sung that might shake me from dreams.
