Jack Ingram

The walls are whispering.

Horrors plauge my mind.
...

The silver fox is leading me,

through a world both fresh and new.
...

Soft footfalls following me.

Through midnight silent pine.
...

And I say Rage.
Play your part on this earthly stage.
Never, no never, let yourself be caged.
...

Ecstasy moans from painted lips,

between the grinding of lustful hips,
...

I cannot help but want her,

I feel her running through my veins,
...

The lonliness is crushing,

Like the waves that crush the sand.
...

I’ve denied harsh thruths,

swallowed sweet lies.
...

She runs through the fire,

Freezing the coals and flames.
...

the jazz is bleeding out the speakers.

Romeo is dead.
...

The journalists have gathered,

The horses breath scorches their feet.
...

Down Glasgow road the wind blows cold and the Scottish blood flows hot.

And time, it seems to slow, like the decaying of a rose.
...

The moon has risen, as the sun has died.

It glows an eerie red.
...

With larcenous hearts,

We wrote in red.
...

The air is thick with crimson blood,

My eyes are crusted shut with mud,
...

We are lust, passion, anger and rage,

We are as beasts in a prison cage,
...

The fevered sweat of naked passion,

Tangled in his net,
...