Slow days
Slow words
Slow lies
Slow ends

So many years to clean the slate
Endless despair within its wake
His touch soiling what used to be clean
His gaze burning on the edge of our dreams no more

Slow pain
Slow deaths

And again he rides in, it’s September and he covets the gullible
Skeletal wish
Hunter
A thousand lies, cast from the throne of secrecy

Hear him spewing forth meaning to miserable lies
See the twisted hand of doubt seal the affair
The insect trust
Believer
Your body a vehicle to house his disease

Pearls before swine they are nothing but blind
Submit to nothing and swallow my spit of scorn
Invisible king
Dying
Procession of woe, struck down by sorrow
A burden so great weighs heavy on old and withered beliefs
The swift solution crumbles beneath the mock notes of a masterpiece
Death in his eyes
Waiting
Spiraling judgement, provoked in the rains

This futile test drowned in the levee of deception

In the year of his sovereign
Rid us of your judgement
Heir apparent