This beautiful project has been in the works for... about 45 minutes. No lie.
Coleon
I try to break the icy slate and crush the heart of winter//
Can't hibernate, I lie awake; Another dark December//
My tongue it sparks the ember...then Summer parts the blizzard//
& kills the beast, within a dream where tundras fall to cinders//
Another God dismembered yet another inch we've come//
Didn't budge and signed the treaty with our enemy's blood//
It's love... Cupid's arrow tore my veins apart//
I survived and fed a match stick to my paper heart//
Cut me with your kiss...make sure your fangs are sharp//
Belt that siren song to hide the dawn when days are dark//
I sever heart strings...a matriarch sinks//
Still can't depart from my anchor under these dark seas//
I find solace in the melody your harp bleeds//
But still wary not to drift within your arm's reach//
Won't be lured to the rocks, I'm not a new comer//
I'll put my ship in the dock before it's pulled under//
Block/Faux Pas
your song's another jaw gnashing bones within the concrete,
smothered all you could, now you gotta let the swan breath
clawed feet are gripping with a tactical retreat, like..
(ask her if it seems right), sting another song in me
missing limbs only ever needed to do harm,
the harmony of discontented preachers in the lawn
that are mowing down the innocent, a reach that never lost them..
(reach beneath the street lamp) breathing in the monsters..
Sleep at any cost...
salivating over lies in my pica riddled romance,
wait and see the show of hands.. (calibrate excitement)
might belittle enemies but life's a working sentence..
Chew it up, spit it out,
who's the one that's ripping down every word intended
as incentive to do better??
You.. a siren with her weaknesses, a melody of molded scars,
I never planned keeping it.. you're telling me I know the part
in sequences..
Paresis in her voice reached a point where the needle split
point me on the path where I can sink in to the sea again..
Maybe/Faux Pas
I hate to be the nihilist type...
but... your false idols don't really apply to this life,
I guess another spines hiding where the primate has climbed,
climate aside, I'm pretty confident the fire has died...
I'm tired of trying... when every matron has a ring now,
I caught another angel, but the water weighs her wings down,
(this house), where cupid's arrow pierced a bit of drywall,
I'm sitting on the cloud, while you wait to see the sky fall,
"you love the poem but the author wasn't much of a prince",
you would shrug and let him draw you with his colorful ink,
as you darken every dead leaf on the beautiful rose...
my heart is on the bench seat of a funeral home...
(you wouldn't show) any emotion with illuminating light shows,
and boarded up the door with the accumulating knife holes,
I tried to break the glacier with your fingers in a hold,
but the summer came and flushed away like winter never froze...
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