Lust sits upon the brow of men
a filthy crown, unholy diadem
that twists the mind and head around
to fill with dark till black abound
what solution to this grave ill
cut off hand, gouge out eyes until
we are but blind, helpless and sin shod
or,
perhaps –
fall into the waiting hand of God?
a filthy crown, unholy diadem
that twists the mind and head around
to fill with dark till black abound
what solution to this grave ill
cut off hand, gouge out eyes until
we are but blind, helpless and sin shod
or,
perhaps –
fall into the waiting hand of God?
Harnessing Chaos 