The Fall Of Apollo(And I)
I curl cold in my chair
My hand moistening
Pulling frost from my hair
Torrent teeth chattering
Shelter and warmth consume my care
Till I am laid aside
By the orange flowing fire that captures my glare
Out of the chair
Out of the door
And what my eyes beheld
Flung me to the frigid floor
Fire in all highs
Fueling waves of clouds
Crashing on the horizon
Alive a burning celestial shroud
Opulent orange and aquamarine
Brazen bronze a liquid dream
Awake
I defy the artic breath
Already burning In the rising shadow
A cindering saint
aloft a darkening meadow
This is the only light I might endure
Anymore
Apollo has fallen
As all the angles and gods
Brooding black and sullen
Tarnished as silver rods
Staunching the fountain in my heart
The night it lives
From their rebirth
Rising as devils to encircle the earth
Drink me into your death
Lift me into basalt birth
Thus I cower beneath the tree
And the neo
You would bind mine eyes that see
How can you bear flowering fruit
And deny me
Your saint souring?
Yet how can I consume the sacrament
Free from the pain
Of the empty devouring?
Speak
And forgive me
For the flesh is weak
And beautiful transgression.
The Gaian Gates of Horn and Ivory
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