18 June 2008

Rose Morales

rose morales

Free sex
Free love
Free religion.

Please, just free me

It is only in my dreams
that I see promise
of free flight;
there on a ever farther horizon
straining toward a distant
fading light.

Please, free me

We are shackled to
the cold radiator
of a useless life;
left to run,
to suffer,
to fight,
but not too much.

At the end of our rope
we are
and put in
our proper place.

Free me

So you bite
at the leash,
worry the restraints.
They dig into
your very flesh,
your very blood,
You bleed,
bleed out.



The maiden swoons in the dead of night
and takes the specter of Death in hand
as Good and Evil join the fight for delectable souls;
the scale is weighted with scenes of dark and light.

The sword of Damocles swings wide;
in endless arch as a still arm hangs
above the supplicant's side, it moves
in seeming airless room, her fate decides.

The jury slips away, they will not tell;
a feather touch would tip the scales hard
as if inside her swell of breast a knave
of cunning deceit has damned her soul to Hell.

No comments: