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Muzzle of a Sleeping God


It came to stay, to beckon eye
Dark was the night it called me lover
Dazed I sank into the rye
Carried away by holy waters

Now I cower and I shiver
still I’m a temple pillar
Vitreous and spooky
– you’ve got nothing on me
Through morphine swamps I glide
Into the muzzle of a sleeping god

To upheave me on the quiet
To unearth all my breathing shadows
In orange haze the picture thrive
The coffin of angry skies I follow

Now I cower and I shiver
still I’m a temple pillar
Vitreous and spooky
– you’ve got nothing on me
Through morphine swamps I glide
Into the muzzle of a sleeping god

where
gaze and dread and void
are open wide

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