There was a cool wind whipping

through the dwelling of acid-bath

mind-set screaming as if the blood

of an anchient winged assasin had

risen up against a generation.

If paradise be lost then who dares

mock those who promise eternity in

hallow-skinned fleshless undertone

ringing of sobriety and overchimed

warnings of destiny.

What is relovent as time trembles

for lack of reason or resource is

the outstretched claws of a lions

prize cub reaching for a she-wolf

stalking a release fro a suicidal

fixation.

All that glitters is the blood-soaked

battlefeilds of yet another fallen

generations dilema.

Though is is often strange to be alone

in the wilderness of self-examination

there is merely the distant voice of

degneration to guide individual wary

soul throuh the plush garden landscapes

of discontent that were maticulously

seeded by the elite servents of solitude.

Homes built upon grave marker foundations

in imaculate cadance with frantic strumming

and obsessive pounding errupting into sonic

dismay.

Stars and bright inspirations are dead in

the mouths of beasts without burden except

the cruelty randomly given to the broken.

(more of this peice will be here later as i intend to write a lengthy bit of madnesss)

chuck1972