Ending The Nerve
Poem By Leon Moon
The disease! — Wandering aimlessly,
Prophet of Waterfalls; —
The disease! — Tearing curtains,
Amputee of Blackness; —
The disease! — Abolishing shores,
Sainthood of Hysteria; —
The disease! — They have no idea!
Every burbling shell, ferociously tuned
To the disaster of surprise; —
They have no idea, no idea they have it!
Each one infected, immune to their destiny,
Glorifying a stupidity I can never be lost in; —
The disease! — No, never!
Death dramatises catalytic boredom,
Deafens the chimney, —
Death offers nothing but reluctancy
Either because it is the notion of nothing
Embodied without it's knowledge,
The glory of a God
Who can't be trusted,
Or exactly what I expect
Neglected to the solitude of freedom,
Or all three! — No, never!
Never, the disease! — The disease! —
The disease! —
What sort of bullet creates the time to assess itself?
Will there be an end to the will of questioning?
Is that it; — ridge and ridge, person and person, the melody of merry-go-rounds…
Never; — The disease! —