Lion Resting In The Sun Poem by Ray Quesada

What's this world of singing birds my souls
Stumbled into? Crumbling, Cold,
Gray-blue mountains, crowned with purple clouds-
It all happened so, so frighteningly quick
-it was so loud - My crunching, autumn Spirit
is like lightning
Tossed out of the sky by a sick
and angry Zeus

Guilty 'till proven guilty!
Death, even to the merely accused.
To the gallows, to the dungeons!
Man is capable of doing this to himself-
While outside, angels with skin
soft as a silken cat
remain unmoved and drunken,
giving soft clues-

Time's a blood-sucking bat
It's only Red August
But my hearts already overgrown
'hiissshhhh, hushhh...', says the gray air;
Says the mist - Coughing in the Ruins
where all souls are thrown
and forgotten

There's a diamond
No, I see millions in your sweat!
She rests, like a satisfied lion
All Gold; Deep breaths;
Fresh, with no regrets
The sun's been black on me for months
-The Lion emerges now, off again
on an energetic hunt

And there are diamonds
in Her darkling eyes
Her name is Future
She wields a sleeping sword
And her tongue is made of G Chords
Her teeth are piano notes
Time's avalanche cascades
Intoxicates; She takes off the Lid
-She serenades
and makes us as sleepy as the Pyramids