The Bitter End
‘The Bitter End’ (The ****’s Tune)
The ‘****’s Tune’ sat on the
_on a smoggy winter’s day
An august light_
Bangs against the tortured lips of envy
Symptoms suffered by the Casuist
remind her as she washes her soul
from its greed
inside two dreams
While measured space bends between
Compare the redundancy_
Bend solace_ lent in light
Spit bent between two moons
While fighting Tormillo’s fancy
A story’s muted maze is still alive
Is that dream still alive?
Well… kill it!
_before it brings the bugs out!