Outer Space
Even in deep space, your love holds me down, Your embrace has weight, and keeps me coming, back…
In London-town of yore but
yet, even to this very day,
slovenly bovine herd
together on conveyor belts.
Chewing cud, eschewing
mud, unconsciously mooving
to have their carotids cut.
Alas, indignant adults,
aren’t we, too, on a slow
march to our own deaths?
Like vermin labyrinthine
lab rats trapped in some
spider’s web—we’re all
ultimately pawns in some
twisted game of Chess.
“mud, unconsciously mooving”
— Fleet Street.
Even in deep space, your love holds me down, Your embrace has weight, and keeps me coming, back…
When I rage, I rumble, cave, and crumble, slip and stumble, bleak, I bumble,…
You came along when skies were dark, just like a song, you left your mark. Upon my heart, I felt a…
my love is just another crutch; a whole circus, tainted by trust. oh wizard me, enchanted thee;…