Monday, January 1, 2018

Impossible Games

Impossible Games

I saw him creeping, stealthily, like a tiger
his eyes scowled, perception was fun
when the world burned
addicted to reception

I saw him sleep, under a grave of dead dreams
falling into a bed made for angels
crawling through a rotten overgrowth
of their parent's failures
a trap between mountains
the roofs that caved in, and mercenary widows
look towards the sky

a broken window down cheshire road
where piles of magazines reminded him
the mysteries that became lies
in an impossible game

they watched her tremble
before an empire
giving thanks to a secret disguise 
chained at the ankles
to a godless frame
without a noble name
playing angel games

looking to each other for the same

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