somerset
10/02/04, 04:39 PM
Morse Code and My Blood/Ink Revolution
Morse code won’t suffice.
They are screaming at you now.
But how can you hear when blood plummets from your ears,
And black ink slides out from under your eyelids.
How can you see?
You are stained in a whirl of dark thick maroon.
A slow decay that engulfs all awareness.
We must all be warned.
These frigid, cold waters will rush through our veins.
Numbing all thought provoking membranes.
How do we channel it out of our systems?
Will the tide rise on us all?
Will the waves become tidal and crash the population?
Will this ocean of broken pens and open wounds sift through our bodies?
Soon to overflow through the cracks in our faces.
I dare not say it softer than this, for purpose of my prophesy be not laid aside.
We will all be entrenched in a swirling parade of grotesque colored mixtures.
A chemical reaction is a safe prediction as well.
Could the blood and the ink cause potential ruptures?
And the ground be left with gruesome entrails.
The quick writing scribes will shatter our glass eyes,
And we’ll be left crying shards that rip our faces;
Along with the black that pours from our sockets,
We’ll look like we painted our faces to attend a funeral.
Our ears will seem as if two ravens have just burst from the sky,
And into the openings on each side of our head.
Causing gashes that reek of internal bloodshed.
Do I make myself clear?
Temporarily crystal until the day of my blood/ink revolution?
It’s coming for all of us.
But don’t you fret, Morse code may suffice for you.
Morse code won’t suffice.
They are screaming at you now.
But how can you hear when blood plummets from your ears,
And black ink slides out from under your eyelids.
How can you see?
You are stained in a whirl of dark thick maroon.
A slow decay that engulfs all awareness.
We must all be warned.
These frigid, cold waters will rush through our veins.
Numbing all thought provoking membranes.
How do we channel it out of our systems?
Will the tide rise on us all?
Will the waves become tidal and crash the population?
Will this ocean of broken pens and open wounds sift through our bodies?
Soon to overflow through the cracks in our faces.
I dare not say it softer than this, for purpose of my prophesy be not laid aside.
We will all be entrenched in a swirling parade of grotesque colored mixtures.
A chemical reaction is a safe prediction as well.
Could the blood and the ink cause potential ruptures?
And the ground be left with gruesome entrails.
The quick writing scribes will shatter our glass eyes,
And we’ll be left crying shards that rip our faces;
Along with the black that pours from our sockets,
We’ll look like we painted our faces to attend a funeral.
Our ears will seem as if two ravens have just burst from the sky,
And into the openings on each side of our head.
Causing gashes that reek of internal bloodshed.
Do I make myself clear?
Temporarily crystal until the day of my blood/ink revolution?
It’s coming for all of us.
But don’t you fret, Morse code may suffice for you.