Thursday, September 9, 2010


High again beneath the snapping waves
Contorting in angles so sharp they cut
Fighting torrents of beasts from the deep
Reasoning with the dieties for redemption
Here above a sound is heard
Nothing is breathing
All platelets stopped
Above in a murmur plated in gold
Drone the words of a being inflated
Remember the blade and the ooze of the cut
Know not of the words of all before now

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