The City of Eternity

In the streets of misery the decked down fishermen come rambling home, after the suns grateful departure the city is hidden with fright, along the levee the blood is running, the heads are turning and the clock is spurring.

The city of sticks and fire is caught in the grasp of the dead, the immaculate priests reside among the bloated pigs, the housewives dance on the table head while the news flash in a bold statement: 25 found lifeless and dead.

Terror on this gloomy night stolen by a bloody humpback knife.

Robert Frost is singing his lullabies on the skyscraper ledge one step away from his last soulful pledge, a pledge of poetry and rhyme a pledge to end the murder in the last fallen sands of Time.

Here in Cinderella’s shoe the maniac is painting the victims blood blue, the ships are just sailing in through the bay where preachers are screaming for them to save the rain, the lighthouse is blinding the mermaids who are luring the last samurai in with Genghis Khans final speech here the heroes go to die while the Bible freaks let out their final preach.

Even infinity is put to the test by the tinted green leaves banished to rest, the ghost of the bar is bragging about his youth among kings and his golden diamond splattered rings, the alcohol that is being served is dosed with daydreams stolen without any remorse though the room is housing many men who’ve died before, the trampling rule of the brave must run it’s final course.

Here come the wise men who speak of the universe and of god they place themselves above all the clueless freaks, the devil is holding the words they taunt though the House of gold itself speaks, get out of the way they say, “be here now and question the soil with which you play not like this happens every single day.”
In the garden the orange robbed fool sits and says not a word he thinks not a thought and laugh not a bit, how lonely must he be, he has loneliness while we have our everlasting wit.

A magical maid has come begging for her own dismay, 
“I’ve read too much, I’ve got too much to say”
She confesses to the millionaires son who hands her a rainbow and a blank page, write down your words, conquer your rage he says.
How could he have guessed she bleeds poison and hunts for the innocence once stolen from her eyes.
No one can hand her the salvation she longs for on the dirty kitchen floor as she leaves the world and glides.

A pawn in the game is the boy who’s been lost, he can’t take the world or the insecure adults who ponder on the opportunities cost.
A rebel from mars.
He strays away from the world already explored and swears he’ll be the one that gives the struggling a happiness even they can afford!
For him I feel a pity that burns he won’t stop looking for answers that lie under his nose it’s just the way the stone rolls, I’ve never seen him like I do now, his eyes drag, his heart yearns but he himself still wanders with a chain attached to his neck his worry and his freedom has cast his ship to a fiery wreck.

It’s a sunset riot below the skyscrapers that hang above, here the unknown faces come to connect, here they come to wring the torturers neck, they run up the building to find it made solely of glass.
A reflection is distorted, the truth is out and their journey is aborted.

The tailor is walking with a crutch past the butchers shop that leaks with the blood of a goat, the tailor nods in disapproval and happily fixes his fox fur coat.
The policeman is strolling the block of crime, dealing with crooks who have stood with the world that they were assigned, he scowls at the kids and talks how they have no respect while putting them down for so long they no longer see the path as direct.
In the daylight the hippies come out praising love they hug the tree and claim that everyone should be free that is until the girl with different views comes along to which they say that her whole world is wrong “Read this! Hear that! See that’s where John Lennon himself sat!” Not a single soul can see beyond the phony front that everyone claims to be but it’s alright I never did claim I myself could see.

The sky repeats like a word said one too many times, I’ve seen the same things all with a different view though bad or good it’ll still happen night and day it’s a clever disguise of the rambling game we unwillingly play.
Here in the morning aroma you must relive all the mistakes you’ve made for here in our city the people will keep on moving and I myself will slowly and silently faaaaade.