fingerlick

Chamber in steady hands,

Forward fold fallen knife…

Grab the heart pouring sinister,

Knife the throat eyes gold blistered.

No one blows me

No one knows me

Everyone calls them

Everyone falls them

Filthy rich

And stable mind

I remember once in time

There was a cue for

A pitiless hell

Resurrection costs

Silly coins lost

I made the times right

I find the Fox lights

Tell me how

If knowing sits

I beg for martyrs

With my wrists

Hence we tend

Here we pry

Lost we have

Not to cry

Even in

Let us die….

Why?

Hmph… I was thinking this morning, or the previous morning or whatever, how the turning of the earth is like some kind of geometrical slide and we are always walking sideways… any help would be grateful..

Better luck next time, Golden Race.