She goes to her temple, when all the world is right, to her scripture, and the priest to grace the sacred confessional to her knees at mahogany altars To be delivered To find her heaven
He goes to his temple when all the world is wrong to his liquor cabinet, to the dealer, to feed the clouded mirror to kneel at porcelain altars, to be destroyed, To find numbness
I go to my temple, when all the world is, to the hilltop the wine bottle opened, to the roaring fire, to dance round earthen altars to be awakened To find peace within myself
-DarkestDaze- · Tue Nov 30, 2010 @ 03:53am · 0 Comments |