LDI (01/09/1977 / NC)

Death In The Cities

Death in the Cities
By Lewis Dowell, III

She stuck your hand up her butt
And felt you spill the nut,
The death in your eyes was no surprise
To the devils in the sky.
How was the paradise so long gone
Forgotten by the death of peaceful imagery
The post was clear from over here,
But over there it was more than drear
The ethnic minorities of some world
Were white washed before the storm,
The misery of hopeful thinking
Was stinking from the beginning,
And those sumptuous secrets spoken in the dark,
Were but whispers of death before the starting
Of a horrible reality’s awakening.

Low and quiet the rivers flowed
And mingled with the juices
Produced by stagnation and devastation
Unrealized by the bray-
I heard some prayed beyond the times
When spiritual flames still burned
And was met by surprise by such sweet lies
Bespoken by the vicar-
‘Call on me’ for I am with thee
Until the end of time
O’ call on me and speak thy mind
I am with thee still-

Death befell the world at once
To the universe she was but a girl,
The spasms o’ life, living and being
Destroyed before the shore-
Destroyed before the shore
O’ the burdens of war against The Great Whore
Who bore the blood in the streets,
For all in time will have release
And meet at last eternal peace
And meet at last eternal peace.

She stuck your hand up her butt
And felt you spill the nut,
The death in your eyes was no surprise
To the devils in the sky.
Paradise is so long gone
And forgotten by the death of peaceful imagery
The post is not clear from over here
It is dark, bleak and drear-
The strange majorities of the world
Were blackened before the storm
The misery of hopeful thinking
Is still stinking, still stinking
And the secrets spoken in the dark
Were but whispers of death before the parting
Of a realities great awakening-

(September 2013)

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