Seer Garth Poems
- Mud Blood is churning ever slow, My impotent moan is ...
- Siren's Call Sludging down in lead filled boots, There's ...
- Wish Of The Morning I wish of the Morning and dream of its ...
- Confession Remind your lady of the beats That your heart so ...
- Little Man With Thorny Heart -... Throes in veins of neck...
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Comments about Seer Garth
Blood is churning ever slow,
My impotent moan is growing tall.
Yet, lights and sound are deeply vibrant
In the clear mist of London air;
I would say I'm blessed with life
If not the heavy ball of mud inside
That grew from spores of this dirty light.
Insane, death is weaved throughout.
Must I fade inside and out?