I hear a tune flow in the room.
despicable like a dying river
Burning-ember by ember
the glory of an ash-smeared moon,
Across the hall, silence galore
imprisoned by the hands of his
unsolicited testosterone
Chasing what must be left alone
Quite uncanny testosterone
Between the desire
ReplyDeleteand the spasm
between the potency
and the existence
and the descent
falls the shadow....
FOR THINE IS THE KINGDOM
( the hollow men)