Do you think that I ever did anything
But bury self loathing in between your legs?
You were my penance and I loved you so dearly
Like a coward who suddenly loves God in the hour of need.
...
Over dullness of the banal, dried brown blood
which passes under our echoed pacing footsteps
a dead dog's eyes shine tragic radiance
to eager hearts, blindly stumbling over themselves
...
Rage without outlet is the worst
when holding a gun
and seeing too well
the endless trail without brunt,
...
All my sworn enemies
throw rocks at my fire
and my bitter straw fortress
falls in on a liar
...
Getting older, John the Savage
seems less and less romantic,
as I'm forced to forever remind myself
that my mind is an empty forest;
...
Those who scoff at petty displays
Of anger and discontent,
And speak of the divine rights to complain,
Crane their necks only upward
...
I scan through the scattered letters of my youth
and amidst the scorned rage and hypocrisy
something burns.
A beaten heart's desperate promise upon himself,
...
The dissipation of contempt
and a thousand displaced fingers
could carry us like smoke,
dispersing carelessly in the wind
...
Flame sits idle in its solitude
indistinhuishable from ice,
a rogue star,
faint in the nights sky,
...