A Ballad of Excellent Destruction
2001-09-04 07:23:10 (UTC)

those trapped in the city then..

those trapped in the city then perfect imprisonment
this suffers the simple gasping breath that once was spoken,
the distance between a blink and slumber, caught in stone
who even in death is protecting the elements that are
counting signs of discontent, leaving behind a legacy
still woken buy sounds in streets,
patterns ensign with the heartbeat,
pumping blood in to the engines to cause
to adapt under a world that spoke only too
well but too quiet for all of us to hear,
as we fall willing to the signs and obstructions
you view what you know to be,
to remain stedfast
keepsake magic to behold our light,
which we marvel in armament
like Mesena sweeping across the nation