Hvorfor har min sønn dyster drømmer?

Sorrow’s seed plumbs the depths

beneath miles of smiles, shallow breaths;

forages, feeds on anger and bile;

part-borrowed, unjust, alone in the aisle.

 

Sinking stone looks up at concentric ripples

thrown to the riverbed where memory trickles

More brittle bone, unknown and forgotten;

outwardly ripe and internally rotten.

 

The places we’ve wandered, the things we have done

crawling over each other as we reach for the sun

A handful of sand scattered far by demand

but we always kick dust up whenever we land.

 

Close your eyes, don the wreath, that necklace of teeth

screaming heart torn apart as it wanders the heath

No heed for the morrow, let us drink for today

no parting – sweet sorrow – unite in dismay

 

A union! A union! Unholy desire

Throw a cloth on the floor, throw our souls on the fire

Teeth marks on the neck, knife marks on the back

to curse god’s nonexistence and the courage we lack

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