The misty eyes of God
covet a night
shrouded in darkness,
one starved of artificial glow:
from the lips of sin,
the breath of destruction dives
into the lungs of humanity.
Here comes life and its lies,
its plea of delusion.
The flame,
blossoming from a stinging
we search for underneath carpets,
and cribs
and luxury buildings…
inside papercuts and ash.
I, swearing by my stagnance,
and by the fervour creaking in my bones,
cast God’s eyes away from me.
Away
from my conceit,
my destroyer,
my veins
undone.
For He cannot bear such a pretty sight.
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