Iliterate Poet

A dumping ground for my works in progress.

16 Jul 2012


Led by the hand of Inanna, encapsulating, assimilating xenocryst, can none resist, these seven witches wailing and drinking blood.

But dear fellow Blood be spilt! 'til days are darker than night and night be as empty as the day, there's none can resist this disarray.

"Blood be spilt!", you say, the sound you utter and the echo, will soon fade away, blood be spilt for sure whilst you're the watchman.

But dear chap blood will be spilt and xenocryst will crumble, behold silt! Many fragments cast far and wide over land and sea, tribes.

I say peace beyond it all, how far you dare is how far you walk, that claustrophobic xenocryst might turn to dust but silt is all of us!

So then! Be assimilated, take her hand, the stains of blood are on the sand, appreciate this slavish glove could be on the other hand.

I'm not so foolhardy to think the script is mine, but this heart stops beating if it can't roar, the core is original,not some boorish whore.

One last lesson, one last chance to listen; I'll state one last time your position so you can make your decision, happiness or derision.

Happiness is never blood and no! this spilt can never spell good! I think we want both the same but I just can't hack the rules of the game.

You can walk alone, do nothing and moan, build your tiny thrown or pick up the story and start from there, you "Change" within without a care. 

I change within without a care, not so easy when it's integrity you wear, now be aware of this so true, I'll not change for them and either for you!

That's up to you,let Lil cast you out, at least from there I won't hear you shout, you should listen well to what I say, not shout and ball to have your way.

I listened, I heard, I know what you said! Do as I say or your cast out and dead! Maybe it's time that you so bled! Assimilated under the red over the dead.

You listened... you heard nothing.