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Secret Rhythm

a prisoner in marble, poised
proud stance, frozen hero -
breath, celebrate, and decay.

The Fool's heart whose voice
is a liquid growl that sounds like singing,
a soft breeze of velvet smoke
in a secret rhythm of suffocation,
a throbbing fever of hidden fire
and devouring time.

Here god is a broken ghost,
revered in violation, a cannibalized
victim whose salvation is
too little too late,
the poisoned salt harvested from
the belly of a dying sky.

Our haunted home of bone
embraces the foggy perfume of
some long-after slow waking
that remembers its desire
but never its need.
Written by RByron418 (R Byron Johnson)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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