violence violence

Are you the prayer whispered
In the shade of the olive tree?
Do you dream only in
The black shades of death?
Voices heard in a hospital
Product placement and
Ecstatic angelic vision
Look at it, it's beautiful
What's it made of?
Look at it, it's beautiful
But what's it made of?

Ad copy in an otherwise forgotten dream
"When was the last time you collapsed with sacrificial
Purpose before the salivating angel confessor
Ovulating sickly through your memories?"
A frail voice which
Once every fеw lifetimes, as if
In mourning, leans softly in
Thе direction of home

I see nothing but crimson
Turning blue with you
Your beautiful hands
Move like two meteors
Combing through sand
On a public beach
Your beautiful hands
Move like two snakes
Through the tall grass
If I close my eyes
I can hear the small voice
Caught in the throat of the wind
If I close my eyes
I can return again and again
Like fruit rotting
Fifteen years in the past
Look at it, it's beautiful
But we don't know
What it's made of