..de.m.o.n


#posssesed #drill #savage

now cheers to the possessed spade
as it continually dung to the cold earth
the fun was alive
as it burns out papers
oil papers ?
written down the dreary missing link of the years
at the last hearth
it burns cold in the jaws
it revies weight induction
if it could try to miss the energy
like a strong sound of crackers cracking into the world of foes
I hear the diggers cri
what if it made a sound
what sound ?
it perhaps was just a dilapidated jaw
like a mild fever running through the late night
was it despise ?
just like soap and water bearing down the hurdles
was it vinegar and deep tie dye
could it wash away the paints and paint a new image?
was it left to worry or work ?
was it feeling the love it deserves
the crookers crock at the end result
it remains hit hard the jaws of innocence
the hard recovery of truth retain?
the regainers speak of the diamonds
while the mist of foes looms
was it able to clear a cleansing call ?
woe!or wow?
if they could only know that the reason it was meant alive was to perhaps bring red deep onions running through the spines
their innocence was perhaps like the perfect doom of creation
like Adams oesophagus Jangles through the earth
in it despair it casted diamonds , gold,and myrrh
was it made for others Glory
or was it vinegar dispersing cold whispers .
woe! or wow?
the receivers were at it again
In deep revel they rebel again
was it dung to dig troubles...?
or was these a thought at head or heart?
.beards and burdens mix with impaired happiness
calling for a clarinet obei
should pain be spoils of hard-working king?
or idle heroes?
the only thing It wanted was for it to dig worries , pains , cold ,and nonetheless the other day of impaired happiness.


© oneb