Broken Guitar Strings

The revolution begins
Did you expect its conclusion in some other form
A flurry of snow and turning and loss
With shackles of yesterday clanging
Loud and bright to speak out against
The weary spirit

I hear the axe falling now
Dividing anxiety from form
See what is to come through open, pallid eyes
The hanging and the gouging out
A centrifuge of tombs

Would that it split us apart
To make us part of a whole
And not the hole of gravity
Weighing down our hearts

The water freezes me
Forces me to watch and weep
Icicle tears through clear scars
Still open and unknowing
Naive and vain as ever

They didn't mention what lay
Between points B and A
Backward or forward we must go
Lest there disaster stays

No modern ruin lasts hereto
No ruination keeps
Pillars, love: ideals all
Are far to high to see

Though willingly we travel
And travail to reach out
To castle golden, feathered skies
And lack of dungeons deep

Though in a dungeon I call out
And hear my call resound throughout
And drive me mad with none about
Save myself, I surely tried

Spiral like a drainpipe
Like chest unto a leadpipe
Or lungs beyond a smoking pipe
Save myself, I tried full true

A vault unto the air
A leap or treasure there
So content do I soar
I fail to notice what comes next

But I would rather not know
And live in the moment
And enjoy the seconds
As anything further is too
Far behind or ahead and full of dread
And full of love
The thought surreal
As is the touch
For which I crave

A raven visiting a flower