City of Avarice

Platitudes on mountain corpses still

Smoke from abandoned window sills

Pay reverence to wallowing souls in pity

Tainted winds over fields of white lily.

 

Design to resurrect dragon flowers of old

From the breasts of a scarred lonely cuckold

Denigrated children scamper in wild games

As the city lavishes in rustic Avarice’s flames.

 

Rendering the youth to wrinkled yellow bones

A drunken beggar his fate in a corner mourns

A woman with men’s torn souls round her neck

Sings of veiled love below a sailor’s deck.

 

Fervour among angels dressed in ivory white

Babble of grizzly trees hiding a sharpened Scythe

Noon ticks away to a splendid amber dusk

And dusk gives way to night’s distrust.

 

Cold feet in unison to the gallows march

Under the ancient colossal stone arch

Lit by Moon’s pale, sacrosanct grace

By the window of a mourning poet’s face.

 

Dazzling carousels recited to a grand piano

Chandeliers swing and shatter bitter hopes

Light dapples though a masquerade of stone

Of those who lived dreams of not their own.

 

The lull of a defiant city in red

Where men in coat of arms are bred

Where be no one God for all

But wars to another’s God’s fall;

 

And fell deeds are heralded in May

Blistered feet strut, in cold blood slay

Sermons of forgotten children to waste

And thus end the virulent night in haste.