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Fall...from Past Seasons
Oh the beauty of death!
Pungent nature descending
a pedestal of green...
a commute into the other
as hidden forces explode in
copious arrays of post-mortem depiction.
Dare ye impugn the goDs over
cryptic marvels of irony...ye too
shall know the equanimity of
silent spheres and beyond,
and...the miserable joy of we,
we who deem what is as not and
engage the sordid forces
of pain's...
remuneration.
poem
by
Dog goD 8Hate
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