Wednesday, July 21, 2010


Frustrated, elated, the son is sedated
Woeful and burdened he lasts till his girders
They crutch him they hold him he reaches for something
He wastes, he creates, he self annihilates
Shatter the bondage that is the body
Burst the shell that is rotted and shoddy
Why can’t he do it – he must look within
Why can’t he escape the clutches of sin
His essence his kernel his infernal eternal
Marred and charred and bothered diurnal
Days just move on and the dreams taunt
An unconscious seam to the only true haunt
He is his enemy and no one else
He is to blame the eye of the self