I dreamed of deep strewn poetry
yet scattered upon the floor
kicked amongst the history
lay bleeding against the door

as strewn papers
and blood within the words
shrilled such wrong
mine eyes

feared to look away
What! such grace
that one has shown
to fall upon your face

grappling irons
lay silent
as hanging
nightmares

stilled at times
with grief
and yet

as shadows of my night
came to only haunt
my sudden flight

sewer streams
flowed between my legs
care not I cast

as lips
cursed
within my blood

take me away
I shall flow

scraping voices
within the mud




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