The Blinks

Pure cruelty, red rights,
Broken scenery, a rainbow at night.
A scream, a cry, a final line.
The never dying soldier,
The heretic on the sidewalk.
A beast of bridges,
A hound of hallow,
Lightning—-
Eight actions of accurate aim.
Black-red fights, bringing glory.
The listener in disaster.
Waves wavering the walls.
Eight thoughts around.

Silk sky sliced the clouds,
Devoured a day of death,
Found four ringing rats,
And a glutton of gates.
To find the rainbow in the black.

Fire forever, a temple of touch,
Searching, finding, calling,
The crying karma in the highlands
With a whore housed below
Waiting for the rest.

The mind found haven,
Bumped the banker,
Bent the mirror, mirror,
Asking for the spell and vein,
Wanting nothing but more.

The earth brought omens,
It raged and rolled,
On the hottest night
Breaking every tie.
Remaining.

Water descended wasted and dry,
At the banquet, and feasting
Below, with a sultan of sane.
Molded to the floor,
Died hollow and worn.

Dark cared to bare the soul,
No fall, no grace, no requiem,
No break,
Only,
A,
Sadness.

Holy vainglory,
Shouted from the shade,
Cut through the gut,
Carried away,
Given no Paradise.

The single soul,
Found the solution,
Solely meant to sooth,
The pride of the overseer
Deep in the paranoid.

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