10-03-2011, 07:03 AM
We have held Dante at night,
tended Cromwell's brow.
Fed and clothed a thousand bards,
told Napoleon kind lies.
Behind the scratching of the quills,
once the smoke has cleared,
we invisible angels pass the time
by picking up our generation's waste.
We don't have time to mourn, can't weep.
The bowers must be clean tonight
so we can usher in the next phallic gurdians.
War and creativity belong to those we serve,
wear these slender corests for, spread our legs
like grim machines. But we can wait milleniums
until our hearts are seen.
tended Cromwell's brow.
Fed and clothed a thousand bards,
told Napoleon kind lies.
Behind the scratching of the quills,
once the smoke has cleared,
we invisible angels pass the time
by picking up our generation's waste.
We don't have time to mourn, can't weep.
The bowers must be clean tonight
so we can usher in the next phallic gurdians.
War and creativity belong to those we serve,
wear these slender corests for, spread our legs
like grim machines. But we can wait milleniums
until our hearts are seen.
"We believe that we invent symbols. The truth is that they invent us; we are their creatures, shaped by their hard, defining edges." - Gene Wolfe