Jan 8, 2009

fine dining

there are no lilacs growing in the paradise,
but the incense of a fresh scar scattered wide
the violet carves no magic in the sky
it barks and hows and sweetly cries

the grass i plod on,
grabs me by its fawn
as i breathe,
in the hollow compartments of night

i wish not to be seen
through crooked glances,
tearing every inch of my muscle
in the name of fine dining

"the stage is set sans the effigy and fire
in course of your earthly delights
oh my mate now, savour the boiling blood
while i cheer myself to grace your supper"

6 comments:

SePuLcHrE said...

must admit.....this has left me a little confused :s

Xtr0 said...

Fine tuning. Although I liked draft 1. :)

Anonymous said...

quite sometime has passed since you updated this space...looking forward for some more dope soon.

eddies said...

i don't write for the ones hiding in the anonymous.

Anonymous said...

you know how comfortable i feel with the garb of anonymity on..i thot i won't have to hear it at least from you..

eddies said...

which is precisely why i keep asking you to get out of the green GARB