Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

my lines are crossed
i step over you
again
making my way
along the banks
of the bubbling tarpits
visions of bondage befog me
seeing the militia
just beyond you
they
flail their many arms
and raise fists
clutching meat cleavers
still i advance
walking like the blind
and quite unarmed
a break dancer's paradise lost
becconed by you
sought out sot
alive in a drunkard's
subconcious fleeting thought
sustained with feathers
and a small
breath of life
mingling with
the deafening roar
milk fed veal missing his mother
that is only
calmed by you