The Weight
This horrible knot mangles the fabric of connection
Gusts of sand blast silk sheets in a humid winter
Clenched in fists of nexus
Slip from palms in the night
Bedlam expect, with bated breath, the untimely impact
Dust stayed stubborn
In patience lain waiting
To spread your own ashes you must revere the name
These machines steam with speed
On track endlessly, as they creep between the walls that keep it all moving
Strip weight from ivory frames
Sprout frailty from far gone beginnings
Good things come to those expecting nothing
Spiral through fatal darkness
Far removed
Lightning collision claps deafness through the soul
Spiral through fatal darkness
Far removed from the genesis flash
Writer/s: Seth Paul Howard, Yashira
