Tuesday, November 23, 2010

The void

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the babies of now have been caught in the fray
where hearts beat--apples in ghastly decay
an assembly of dead living not for today
but the silence of sleep around fingers in pray

the lows eat the highs and the highs eat the lows
the wide eyes feel better when everything slows
and the slugs buy their wings where the firefly goes
by sunlight we’re starved and the emptiness grows

a cyclone of horror is storming our way
an army of black eyes in great disarray
on the way to fulfillment have been led astray
we’re praying and dreaming the storm smoke away

the Void is a tumor ‘tween the head and the toes
it’s location precise is what nobody knows
why a species of souls that are pregnant with holes
can’t see past their eyes and can’t nurture their woes

now our sad mothers sleep in buildings of grey
to dream for the bliss of a better today
when their babies wake up and can feel just okay
devoid of the poison we seek every day.


COPYRIGHT CARRIE-LYNNE DAVIS 2010

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