1. |
What a Man Can Bear
10:11
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Paler than ash a sad face stares at the end
By night these weary hands rise in grey despair
Excel in lament and strange regrets
O son torn from rotten wombs
Drink this fear within my withered dreams
Kind mind - turn worlds
tar heart - white bile
Hazy dismay a shattered silhouette
in dreams I wake to utter emptiness
Veiled seem these lights
a sore wit waning bleakly belied
… what a man can bear and die not.
Words, Worlds untold woe
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2. |
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An ashen haze
therein a weak mind resides
Obscured and unjust
A man’s black thoughts
weep bleak pearls
O, unbroken daughter - a will to invite
Vaguely shades and shapes appear
A strange one clad in mist and woe
Ruins, rest and dreams of wax.
Resounding with stranger laments
these earthen limbs bleed in relief
Breaking from azure lips
a luring song of unchaste death
There will always be more than one of me
Seceding from flayed stars, the wish to die
Placid chants murmur of silver and rock
The bitter wine of spring.
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3. |
Utica Crib
07:11
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Purple clouds overhead
Is this dusk or dawn?
Bind blood to blood
Bind bone to bone
Bind man to time to wound to plight
Weary - misty and dull
A golden age gone by
Bind blood to blood
Bind bone to bone
Bind man to wealth to home to man
Loss for names - pealing night
An orchid’s sin.
A tardy beast lays dozing in the murk
My treble debt.
Bind blood to blood
Bind bone to bone
Bind man to debt to land to death
The outside sobs a song of grave despair
A piece of night in my shape
A ghost, like you, I tramp the night
Broken, broken.
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4. |
Voracious Null
06:47
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Empty, thought, talk
Words undead, in my palm they rest.
Breathing ink: abysmal wealth,
All lust lost - draped in pest.
Hunger unknown
All alone
Empty streets
Open doors gape
in their silent sleeps.
No spirit wanders these fading paths.
Flooding back - wooden souls
Within the walls is movement of a secret sin.
Risen am I - risen decline
Again madness fails
From afar: a skylark’s putrid song
Rustling garbs, a thorny kiss
atra edax pagina - while a kind mind hides to die
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5. |
...and Die Not
09:40
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Ever so coyly the son submits to sleep
this soil is made of flesh.
- A sultry thought, the smell of rotten fruit
Drunkenly black flies haw.
Long abandoned are the rooms where we once dwelled
Contours intrude and rack
Immensely quiet and laden with loss
Oh thorny this hour of grief
Sunken, molten, sprawled in rot
From dusty halls we hear
a frozen gaze
Gone, gone, gone beyond
All together gone
None, none, none, none
Gone beyond
Mutely wafting - a sense of times past
Our weak hands burn and die
Where silver spiders find our eyes
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