"i don't mind stealin bread from the mouths of decadence"
 
starving for a sensual kiss from the sky
as i slowly emerge from my self made prison
i locked myself in for decades in search
of the inner voice that whispered silently
to classical conditions contortioning every
choice thought before i finally decided
 
to step up to those that dislike me
smile then turn away
 
"but i can't feed on the powerless"

im still waiting to stretch my atrophied wings
they've been bound in insecurtiy for far too long
i want to take that first running step on unsure ground
and finally hear the melody inside my head
like distant whispers of a past me
long since martyred
 
to step up to those that dislike me
smile then turn away
  
"when my cups already overfilled"
 
crucified on crimson complacency crafting
handmade quills out of clouds clay
moist with tears that fell on greeds ground
then hitchiked a ride from lovely
lightning swaying in the sparkling lavender
sky welcoming euphoric electricity
enticing the blossoming breeze
 
to kneel before beauty
smile and savor
the moment

"but it's on the table the fire's cooking"

floating in the midst of tranquil waters
deep within myself
fingertips like nets, grasping at forbidden stars
while the moon sprinkles twilight dust
in lily white palms
of inner reflections
 
"and they're farming babies"
 
mirroring the night in days sky swallowing
beams of energetic aquayellow rays dancing on
constellations that border spectacular supernovas
exploding like fireworks on the Fourth of July
crippling the use of my eyes that aren't
needed where i'm being invited to journey to

"all the slaves are working"

prismatic wings gliding on currents
of golden hues
a dusting of midnight lashes
against alabaster flesh
sung to in heart breaking melodies
by a chorus of angels
as the soul seeks to bask
in heavens radiant light
 
"blood is on the table"
 
saturating silence partaking in
telepathiconversations
levitating to the table where the
Last Supper took place
relaxing on starseats joined to the
sand textured clouds
overlooking the amazingly beautiful
Milky Way ocean

"all the mouths are chokin"

peering out into a landscaped sky
painted to perfection by a divine hand
tears flow down cherub cheeks
as the heart is humbled
and the soul sighs
finally content within itself
and the world

"and i'm growing hungry"





"all quotes are from *Hunger Strike* by Temple of the Dog"

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