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Movement of the Flesh
Trains carry you thru the endtimes
Voyeuristic mellows
Flow on calm seas of green
Beside the tracks your forefathers laid
Their lives down for
A penchant for drama
Can purge the victim of righteousness
While elevating to nobility
The status of the slain
We of the antis
A movement of the flesh
Can predict the gender of tragedy
Without fail
As we have been borne of those parents
With the best of times to speak of
Illnesses cured
And never returning envelopes
Written dreamletters burning
And a curse in a white candle
Befitting a kingly villain
For heaven is but a concept
Hell is but a flavour
And life is but a dream
Concept there and embedded in black and white across the screen. True to the eyes and thought-provoking for the neurons.
God bless!
I have no idea what the hell this poem is about, but I do know I like it. I'll get back to on the meaning, but in the mean time, keep writing! This poem is fan-frickin-tasitc!