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| round and round a knife-edged loop of fury,
following the leads, hunting for the clues, I'm sure they're not so hard to find. dripping loudly, dressed in charismatic red and fear, they're everywhere ~ crucified in time, twisted metal, broken flesh, minds, glass and mirrors... and now our hearts are breaking even as we watch new heroes rising from the ash but no-one wants to touch the truth (its edges are too sharp) ~ that hatred will but make a suicide of All. and someone says: "at least they're playing songs again on the radio ..." demons preen their oily robes of desecration, preparing for the feast ahead, "give them what they think they want and leave the rest to us, and always, always, leave them wanting more..." so the guests have all been drugged with their own sad arrogance and fear, the demons know that it is always best to use what's there to start with. and someone says: "at least they're playing songs again on the radio" while the gods who walk within us might as well be playing solitaire. |