Lead the Way...

October 18, 2011
Crucified in
Little lake,
Sulfur not the taste.
Sweet nectar
Kills the worry,
Dancing upon the mind.

Torture for pleasure,
Like a primitive sight,
Always alluring
Always … starving.

Destroyer to soft,
Velvet of rest.
Still life
After death.

And diminutive warmth
Shadow slipping silently

With a whisper
A death
And no funeral
For one who will be
Resurrected again
And again.

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