⋅ 21 March 2010


Take the scaling of fish
to feed thousands of souls
and by granting your wish
you are stirring my coals.

On the jungle's soft bed
hearing Lucifer's call,
as you cradle my head
and the raindrops do fall.

Chew the manna for me
place your lips to my teeth,
if Valhalla it be
it is yours to bequeath.

Should ye Gods grant reprieve
you be chosen my bird,
and the timing to leave
just requires one word.

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