June 27, 2011

  • Ode


    Set your engines for the sky
    Drain the swamps my little butterfly
    This Murphy's game of looking at the ground
    Only fit for those wearing shackling nouns

    Dream of perfection's shroud
    Only with knowledge of its dark, hidden cloud
    Dream of irrigating the masses
    As they pliantly forget their blesses

    Don't forget the grounding ground's ground
    The anchor you take to Atlas for his hand to pound
    People, oh people they remember
    Don't let them dismember
    Your rusty shaft

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