Scarfield

My words come out like flowers
Long stem, poison petals, unconsumable to humans 

Six tick-tocks of the clock and one less degree of separation
One less detail to consider

Even keel has been the best one could hope for before now
Hence, whatever shall we ponder?

Are there too many dangers on that foul and rapid river?
Capsized with thunder thighs buried hatred in the mirror

I no longer see my worth in her eyes
Her smile, the epitome of danger

I never left I just withdrew
Still wanting all of it with you

Chemically burned and upturned, the levels I hit were legendary
Who other now could put me secondary that would drown me any further?

A deluge determined to break the levee
An imminent outpouring filled to the rim with chalice meat
Burning seed contained by skin-tight prison

One last line of defense stretched across my neck to strangle
When I'm already drowning
Smothered by the dirt shoveled in my shallow grave 

Light the fire, the excitement would be worth it
Then every element could have its piece of me,
An investment with returns

The Pilgrim has come home with sunken shoulders, his Holy Land defiled
Other hands have carved a niche which he could not fulfill
He fell short in his devotions?
The red letters were not met
So his Church was torn asunder and left without defense

While the heathens and blasphemers took anything of value,
the Pilgrim only prayed harder
Until he finally had to accept that his God was on vacation 

Somewhere sunny where words come out like flowers 
Long stem, poison petals, unconsumable to humans

Where the sun feeds lovely weeds
Along the banks of a foul and rapid river

Where the six tick-tocks of an unforgiving clock strike a bell
whose ring threatens to carry on forever