Sunday, September 18, 2016

Clean the lair

Quell the flames 
of the broken heart
it's time to harvest
grow the art
from the gaslit flames
turned to smoke 
curling into patterns 
'round the spokes
of a bicycle wheel
turning on the game
on the game that did claim
unto acid rain
take it back you will
you must clean the air
fresh autumn chill
to suck the poison from the lair ..
turn it inside out
and then you'll know the way
play the flute
grow it now
and abolish the nay say..
Play, pain, play, 
Rain clean the way.