the peasants revolt

why dont you just shut up?!

all of you.

with your naked lies

lying glinting in the gold

of the crown that you wear

in a kingdom

all your own

and your flashing iron scepter

laying flaccid at your side

tryin’ to call me

g-dless heathen

on your twisted devils ride

i dont need your cloak of glory

or your subjects

all on knee

all i needs a clear reflection

of the power

thats in


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crawl back in.

so scared.

of the possibility.

of me

of you.

of the







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dusting for shadows

in the barren garden

of what used to be me

i search for treads

of once bare feet..

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dont know much.

lift that worn scarred veil up

and slide my hand beneath

that ancient wall of hopeless shroud

enshrined in mourners sheath,

lay softened kiss on pure white skin

in stroke of wanting flame

then gather in small searing gasps

in mouth filled with your name..

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scrub it off man.

to unlock those gates

where passion waits

and love grows true

and sound

in latent wait

of lovers seal

for treasure lost

and found…

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flight of the searching wing

to feel in course

mad thrusting hips

in urgent need

of all

and fill in gaps

of sugared caves

in wait

of rushing fall

soon kiss those lips

in softened time

where i no longer


and close my eyes

on trembling form

still now

in sacred night

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fools gold.

in a skyline full off essentials

on that hallowed ground we pave

with all the bitter sweat and tears

and all the heart we gave

in grave mistake for what we want

with no account for air

lie too late now in tortured winds

our wounded souls to bear…

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