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ESCAPE
Hell boils over the cities and plains,
with the same catholic stench as yesterday,"Flesh man" cracks the knight in dark armor.
Covered in powder, dust and feathers,
he draws a trail of fresh blood
to another corner of time.Speargrass grows inside out under un-exploited darkness,
dying roots exposed by empty, glowing chains.No broken plot of ground
shall ever give up its bones,
for one who was given as an offering of death
to help others avoid the spirits.Moon dogs bounded in spider webs
casually wait for the stars to never come out.Watching right and going wrong,
the only things left now are smiles with splinters,
amphibious minds, and words blur-blur-blurring away
into the silence of twenty-one years.
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