deepundergroundpoetry.com
Cold cavern
To ever walk in dark sunshine
staid gothic tale
the brighter day, so in denial
Dead flowers that can bear no seed
a wilting will
that drowns in fathoms deep
Replenishment the bitter pill, contrite
unconscious curtains pulled
a chasm with the steepest sides
Limbs be ever covered epaulettes
to hide the tracks
the vents of razor slits
If chinks appear
cracked tracks of salt
on the paths of pride, all downwards steer
The host, that never answers
bare existence
the discord in each major, feeds the creping cancer
Steel spiders web
grey mist's that swirl inside my head
forecasts where the lows are dread
Just the outcast, locked open penitentiary
from the common heard
the curved ball that threw itself?
Hangs a fading picture of the Doors
Jim Morrison, a ghost, he calls
the platitudes of each need ignored
Each icy drip from the roof's topography
the ineptitude that creeps
for that cold cavern entraps me
staid gothic tale
the brighter day, so in denial
Dead flowers that can bear no seed
a wilting will
that drowns in fathoms deep
Replenishment the bitter pill, contrite
unconscious curtains pulled
a chasm with the steepest sides
Limbs be ever covered epaulettes
to hide the tracks
the vents of razor slits
If chinks appear
cracked tracks of salt
on the paths of pride, all downwards steer
The host, that never answers
bare existence
the discord in each major, feeds the creping cancer
Steel spiders web
grey mist's that swirl inside my head
forecasts where the lows are dread
Just the outcast, locked open penitentiary
from the common heard
the curved ball that threw itself?
Hangs a fading picture of the Doors
Jim Morrison, a ghost, he calls
the platitudes of each need ignored
Each icy drip from the roof's topography
the ineptitude that creeps
for that cold cavern entraps me
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