And as she sleeps around her bednthe blinding deadbled world spinsnBlack sightless firepierced black universenEmpty the fire as she sleepsnThe sleepy skeletontongued worldnMassed blast of storms and sand rollsnOh lovely world - come alive for menThe long tongued god is not realnHe drags the chain clasped in his wicker fingered handsnThis brother is paper thin - form but no substancenNever lived, so he is not deadnThis is man's fear made trashnnAnd as you light the incense sticknI pray that your fingers may burn
Skeletontonguedworld
Nature and Organisation
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