deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Killer of Man
Let The World See.
He stalks the night, especially towards dawn;
extinguish and collects light.
Sometimes when there has been a car accident or
a bomb has exploded,
you can see his shadow on a hilltop looking down.
He has a sack slung on his back-just like Santa
- ready to collect smothered
light. Perhaps he’s a shaman who knows how to
relit the light?
He lives a place that is never dark, ‘cause there is
always places where
the sun shines while we sleep.
He knows this and is therefore busy towards
dawn, wherever it begins.
The collector of light has many names but no one
has seen his face, except
the mad and they are best locked up,
they must not be allowed to tell us god,
is also the killer of man.
He stalks the night, especially towards dawn;
extinguish and collects light.
Sometimes when there has been a car accident or
a bomb has exploded,
you can see his shadow on a hilltop looking down.
He has a sack slung on his back-just like Santa
- ready to collect smothered
light. Perhaps he’s a shaman who knows how to
relit the light?
He lives a place that is never dark, ‘cause there is
always places where
the sun shines while we sleep.
He knows this and is therefore busy towards
dawn, wherever it begins.
The collector of light has many names but no one
has seen his face, except
the mad and they are best locked up,
they must not be allowed to tell us god,
is also the killer of man.
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