Stingers of Blissful Intent

It’s there; Lying uncomfortably against the roughness
of my soul-
Forthright to the mold that’s been laid about through the
ages of time-
Burning evening horizons; Hot and awaiting the disaster
that will follow behind the edges of painful disgust-
I cry; I weep; No, I shout to wake the sleepy one; The
arrogant clowns that believe in bright red noses and
painted faces-
Those who store their faith in less than a thimble of measurement;
Oh stumble no more in weakness; Fall no more on the dusty
road to oblivion; For the pathway has overgrown without the
prints of my footstep or yours

Some wash their face in the cesspools of pre-dawn promise; Silver
lined with disease and angst-
Carry on; Walk on; Walk by the whittled down; Scraped virgin youth
of our world-
Touch the stone face creature of the next generation of howling beasts-
and know they will devour you within the moment-
Never giving thanks, for the bones saved for tomorrow’s feast

They lie in the shadows subtle and still; Listening only for the
heartbeat to die-
Not yours nor mine; It’s theirs they need to feel drain through the
catheter of shameless mazes-
Their nourishment of choice is hatred, and while they lick their lips
and enjoy your fearful tears,
You feed them one bite at a time; One handful at a time; Without
any warrant or need for response-
As long as you know, they will never fill the crater of hunger they
have for death-

So walk on; Carry on down the pathways of blindness and tripwires-
Exhaust your energy of arrogance and foolishness-
Sleep while the waves wash ashore the stingers of blissful intent-
while they gnaw on the scraps of our ignorance-
Walk on; Step lightly; Cry not for those left weeping in silence and
lost promises-
For soon, there will be no need for warrant or response, as they listen
for the last heartbeat to die

© Lisa Hilbers
All Right Reserved