Friday, July 16, 2010

You Called It Love, I Called It A Massacre

True love made trash

All those pretty and useless words

Their future flows as a river of failure

Man made

They hope for the calm that only comes

After the violence

After the separation

On Sunday morning I heard your voice singing from prison

Bending blue shadows

But none of this matters now

Face down at the bottom of the sea

In endless protest to you absence


Anonymous said...

Very Interesting!
Thank You!

snakedance said...

Thank you very much.. I might try again