Flight is for the Dreaming Things

Caustic dissolution at its best.

Boiling Daemon
Raving Phantom
Bloodied Angel
In wings,
All flight above ground
Till no grave be found.

I pray.

No measure seems dreamed fit
In the look of all this,
Till the winged done come
Summoned
To spent the land
As cavalier as it gets,
Leaving all else

all blind and
Spinning below

I say.

"That fall seems great"
The worried searcher and I observe,
Laid upon our rightful cloud.
Crouched for a moment
Staring over, we look at

The people who just walk on by...

"It Done gets worse the more they fly"
He seems to mention to me...
Yet in the wind I can say
With lost honesty
I couldn't hear a word he said.

I feel.

"The backs of all creation
Can't hold us now,
No winged beast seems fit."

The searcher seems to agree,
And the staggering stagger
Of the world on the reel
Done fought da fears
In line.

 

And we broke

And it broke

On the backs of it all,

Tumbled

Falling without relief

in the too dark sky

I see.

Myself

No longer so up high

Downed in some crater

The searcher at my side.

 

Home,

In some garden of eden
The lovely wait in line,
And in the wink, to flip the hair

They seem to convince

Of a world with no teeth

Saying:

The casket has no bite
Spare it's immediate time.

"We all got dem bites"
The wanderer says,
"And dem flyer's see you dead before yur time."

I live.
Then,
Below, as I had always been

To summon the flight no more.

Author's Note

FUBAR maybe. Assistance required.

Reviews

[Jerrica Benton]

you ever play dungeons and dragons?

[Amber Victoria Tudor]

love the whole fall of satan references. it's abeautiful poem.

[Boyd Johnson]

as always my friend...

for better or for worse...

your thoughts are in the clouds...

i wonder...who that wanderer might be.

[Hawksmoor]

Damn, man.

I'll have to come back to this when I can get my thoughts on it in line.

But damn.

Hawksmoor...From The Bleed.