Bloom

The child’s the father of the man, the proper study of mankind is man

But the grapes of wrath are ruptured, death and poison in my hand

Your stiff head lies on the leaves, your bloodied forehead on the sand

But my brain is full of razors so I do not understand

There’s a canopy of starlight, sky graying in the east

Evil done’s the doing of a drowsy slouching beast

The sun will rise like always and render all this fresh

As flowers bloom like orchids and feed upon your flesh

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2 thoughts on “Bloom

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