We brake once more on the waves of our love.
Trying not to drown.
But your current rises below and above.
Fixing watery crowns.
But a latent strength takes me beyond the seam.
Crashing me to the shore.
Littered by the ghosts of long dead dreams.
To haunt me, evermore.
A Comforting collapse.
That extreme degree of falling.
So enticing, heart is stalling.
As loose recollections of perhaps;
that I always was the king of pain.
Knowing it would always come again.
I’ll wear my own destructive crown.
Situation familiar. Characteristic breakdown.
Metal hearts and paper crowns.
I anoint you in the night.
Deep when the blackness washes the walls.
That’s when no one can see.
No eyes to validate or void your divine right.
Over me.
Under my benediction which tiptoes into your skull.
Preciousness weighs on our fingers now.
Consequence hangs in our soul.
And as the yokey morn cracks over your eyes.
It may all disappear into the dream.
And buried by the burdens of the day.
I shall lay, to be haunted and spent.
Your prince, left in a pauper’s grave.
Now that we are so anaesthetised.
We settle for blankness.
Without any compromise.
You suck the soul from us every day.
Filling the void with countenance and suspicion.
Such a beautiful paradox, what a time to be alive.
So lazy by design.
You wear the masks of the familiar.
Cutting the ties that bind us to our future.
And who are we to utter, the silent stutter into separation.
Your desperations keep us scared.
There is no oil here, only pits of anger.
Bubbling to the surface.
Such disturbance now at the house.
The roaring of a mouse, of a nation who were followers.
Now numbering the chorus that’s out of control.
Democracy hangs in the air, like the miasma of the 19th century.
Fogging London once more with a noxious distaste.
We all wear our own tin foil crowns.
Crunching the bones of despair.
The Fear of standing for something.
I am but one of many, lounging in my paralysis.
A self-inflicted state of disconnect.
Waiting for the numbness to arrive.
Paradise falls, as we bury the feathers.
A crumbling collection of corroded attempts.
The remains of Babel mixed with the tears of God.
Never for me, only by your design.
Crafted out of an ego that you can never resign.
You lay siege on me with it.
Tapping at my glass heart.
Rapping into my bloody soul.
The storm around bellows.
Shaking the fragile shelves where I placed our love.
Like water in a vase, the love flows over.
Shaken by the ground swell and anger.
The sloshing an slashing make way.
Like a parade of sad elephants from your mouth.
Unravelling the red.
Undoing the gold.
I sit without a crown, without a king or queen by this side.
Eating the apples so justly plucked.
Watching it all swarm and swell.
Rip and rampage through it all.
Watching Rome burn and the walls fall.
Smiling, like mockingbirds in the dawn.
Allowing the earth to suck the air away from me.
Knowing this is truly a beginning.
Seeing the light once more reflected in tomorrow’s song.
How to topple the king who wears the crown so royally.
Moments and magnesium fill the place of diamonds and gems.
Wrapped in much fool’s gold.
And the crown heaves down, rubbing red and raw.
Check
A life long-lived with much regret.
Check.
How you turn on the heels and fled.
To learn a life in which to lead, we watch while others succeed.
Little eyes through holes in fences.
A voyeuristic violation into their little galaxies.
That swirl and sway like the black in the white.
Changing from dismay into delight.
And you take this horse by the reigns, and lead me through the forest.
Through the clearing of my ill begotten ways.
Out of the woods, out of the storm.
Peppering poppies that fill my lungs with such poisonous perspective.
And show me.
That I had been asleep all this time.
Into your ear I promise heaven.
Though I’m sure we’ll go through hell.
Consider this a quick confession.
Before falling under this spell.
My love is mined in deep deposits.
In caves of the dark and unkind.
But there’s skeletons buried inside my closet.
And devils lurking in my mind.
Havoc and Consequence 