Leanna Nechlon pouts blood and tears. I taste her neck. I can now make her eyes roll to white. Her pulse rate quickens. Throbs upon my probing tongue. Stars fall above us, burning for us. Leanna became the whore that save me from life. I've lost faith. Decrepit falls my Boston church, cloaking us from within. I tip the cup, life's challice vermillion. The lost drug of God has won. Nine angels, obscene devices for the cruel torment of the will. Consume thy paper, it will have to guide us to Earth's Heaven above.
II) Ascending Heaven
Flashing light will envelope my body. Give me the strength I have lost but will need. Transcendental my noema develops. Pumping nectar from the darkest sun. Leanna Nechlon bleeds scriptures and lies. I drink her thought, poison from it. I will make her... As one I write, messenger of God. The inkwell empties. Words are colored life's red.
III) Fall of Leanna
Leanna stares, quenched by her fear. Sliding her hand across my face. Going down upon my lips. Feeling the blood pour so warm. Tasting like hope, love, and rust. Onto the quill it flows so quick. Finish the verse, begin another phrase of lore. Leanna laughs as her wrist fills my cup, and there I was when Leanna died. Write some more. As one I write, messenger of God. The inkwell empties. Words are colored life's red.
IV) The Philosopher
God exists, God is good, God is omnipotent. You can only have two of three. To choose them all you contradict. Mackie knew the rules so well he made Anselm disintegrate, as Pascal sat to toss his coins on the farthest part of the Universe. Dead not gone. Paper is my torment. The quill is my scalpel. I am my own thesis. The pain grows with the years.
V)....and with the Morning Sky
The rain falls down my face and on silent Leanna. I've lost. The Universe calls me. Oh, Mother take rne home.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
