Shackles in the webbing of the heart Festering in the tissue of the veins Iron thread that grips your blood The rust bleeds darkness in the pool. Drop to your knees, Cup your hands: Pray. Dreams forever caught in the web Thin filaments of destiny. Walk alone, Dragged through ash and sand The bleeding compass in your hands Weighed the weight of the cross But the hill is a conveyor belt The frequency shackles not with stillness But in drastic motion A Möbius wheel that’s self-sustaining Magnetism of the violent dance of Saturn-Moon Predetermined patterns of our wounds Murdered sun and daughter moon The ringing in your ears. Life.
I like the science <> religion mix in this one.
Experimenting with this one. It's actually pretty much a first draft- wanted to have something that felt like a contrast to the other poems.