For the hearts that cannot wait
I wish you all the goodness of sleep
So that every waking day
There’ll be no unhappiness,
No third world memories lingering in your constricted mind
To the Snaking dunes of desert land
You lay your back to melting sand
You breathe the grains
And cannot lift your gilded hand
Lucid dreams in the city of hate
Countless bitter people you create
As the desert storms recede
So are the feelings of love
Forced out, vomited
Through the nose it went writhing
That love, that mud.
Formed into an Asp
Her mild, gentle heart
So precious, fragile
Death creeps in the heart.
To the hearts that cannot wait.