Temple

lovely gold. promises and more - to cause an abrupt stop. any practical man would ponder. what's the catch? but the doors are firmly latched, you cannot see what is opaque, there is no sound coming from the other end. tight lips that does not pry open and the first step is tentative, the second is confident,

whose presence i seek not, till the world comes crumbling down - then does the faintest of sound break my spell. and what a spell it was! where untold stories sit on my tongue. they burst forth like a supernova

a full stop. but that's not satisfaction, just - hanging in mid air, feels wrong when feet should be grounded on earth. like a tree, with roots digging in, seeking water and the man tree tries to imitate a large trunk standing perfectly still by night.

you know you got it kind of peculiar; the words begin to fade become stuck, mangled, strangled and a hoarse cry hisses then spurts the red sea. zombies try to walk the living do, skeletal, paper thin, wind flows takes off with these dead looking eyes still piecing: and you are staring up from a lifeless sea whose ink swept out from beneath a rug; did anyone say how

withered, weathered down and a memory of hell stripped off fire - just a cold basin of rainy water with lots of algae grown. living fire puffed out like a castle with growing arms

a man with gold buys a golden statue, and ask the workers: is that not wonder? but he already knows the answer, for the blushing damsels are always going pink when they brush past - like a canvas dripping ink, rainbow colors splattering across the sky

it is true as you say, dear lilith that you have done nothing save being practical. and i pour upon you the gravest of judgement because of ideals not proven, save faith.

let my voice be heard, for surely this doubt, this reflection, this alternative explanation - meets with a favored nod, a smile, quite like love, when grace means keep your sins, painted dolls tucked deep in a house filled with dead flowers and weed.

was not that difficult really, is it? to run away from temptation, to cling to - love. nuanced, the devil plays with emotions, words,

what languid sullied stillness, to be sheltered in that cocoon lava and call it - pleasure but pleasure bites like a dog in heat, focused zoomed in; magnified, extrapolated till the whines rattle the rails on their way to rusting, weakening breaking: rocks becoming sand, a house enveloped