Array ( [sid] => 185791 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => Any Time You Want To Step UP [time] => 2019-01-18 01:16:02 [hometext] => And they shall hunger no more.......neither the sun light on them, nor any heat. Rev. Ch. 7 Verse 16 [bodytext] => Soft as a summer drizzle,
silent as Kentucky fog,
whispering, those Sinai cedars,
I’m witness to it all.

Morals not so much slipped away
as shushed into the void,
this menace not without direction
a hand caresses us as toys undressed

Knowing where to rub our lazy spot,
our bowelish place,
one by one we’re robbed of breath.

Lyric motions plunder motives,
“Give in to us, it’s okay”,
and sagging ears take in the siren;
now sin walks proudly in the day.

What end game?, I’ve pondered often,
what profit do they seek?
Broken down, impoverished,
this world now plodding piles of soulless meat.

The devil’s laughing lustily,
success undreampt, now anti-love.
Eons pass, at last, we’re where he wants us;
as below, so above. [comments] => 6 [counter] => 125 [topic] => 62 [informant] => invierno [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => spiritual ) Your Poetry Dot Com - Any Time You Want To Step UP


Any Time You Want To Step UP
Date: Friday, 18th January 2019 @ 01:16:02 AM AEST
Topic: Sad Poetry

Contributed By: invierno
Soft as a summer drizzle,
silent as Kentucky fog,
whispering, those Sinai cedars,
I’m witness to it all.

Morals not so much slipped away
as shushed into the void,
this menace not without direction
a hand caresses us as toys undressed

Knowing where to rub our lazy spot,
our bowelish place,
one by one we’re robbed of breath.

Lyric motions plunder motives,
“Give in to us, it’s okay”,
and sagging ears take in the siren;
now sin walks proudly in the day.

What end game?, I’ve pondered often,
what profit do they seek?
Broken down, impoverished,
this world now plodding piles of soulless meat.

The devil’s laughing lustily,
success undreampt, now anti-love.
Eons pass, at last, we’re where he wants us;
as below, so above.

This poem is Copyright © invierno


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