Ushered forward by archaic minstrels
bound to a plane not known to you or me.
Trudging through congealing concrete
attempting to avoid holes
whilest they attempt to fill my lungs
with bitter flavored bumble bee's
whom contemplate life from within me
Yet I prefer the sting
and the rest that I then soon possess
But as the concreted hardens
I have no choice but to nod
and query the pros and cons of their symbiotic partnership.
Abjectly raising my paws
to black out a white dwarf who has
begun to write her will
I know my name which no one thinks is strange is strangely not there.
Fucking Santa with his incessant lists.
Is it such a shame
that I turned his ebony coal into several diamonds that verily are not priceless
and not a measure of love
now don't be amiss
when she the (decides) to tug your
shoe, of which there is no doubt
I am unglued because the shoe does still rest on a heavy chest
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