That day you opened up your veins
That day you opened up your veins
We thought you were trying
To give away your soul to us
So we might have left you there too long:
No one wanted to disturb
All that pretty, florid richness, bubbling out
And it left a beautiful paisley imprint
As looking out, through your stained glass,
We could see the world bleeding out too:
Division, disappointment, greed;
Great running rivulets, of time's acid bath
But we've sugar-coated it over now
Sliding around, falling over each other
Touching our fingers, to our mouths,
Never sure who's stinging fire of blood
We're tasting; there's been so many since-
Even the fountains spray blood now,
Like wine, of the new transmutation;
And sitting rulers bathe in it,
Hoping for good luck, eternal life, balance of yin and yang,
Your name, as magic eight ball, lucky rabbits foot;
While we slink around, fingers to our lips
Waiting for the day your blood finally finds it's voice
And begins to scream out loud.
This is deep and full of imagery. The mind is so vast that all who gets a peek of it, usually see more than they intend. great write.
I have always believed blood cries out to blood...and so it does here with an understanding that washes over the one sprinked in the fountain of these words