THE HIDDEN BALENCE-------- PAYMENT TIME?

pretty tiny hands curl into marble fans
scented flowers chained at the hour

Broken bent fingers
turn upwards begging the past
this future was never drunk by the glass

Death in its weary conclusion
escapes me every day
drunk in the company called delusion
im me in the fucked up wave

Alone since the skin  refused to sing
dust my confession
spread on the floor
written in  bars spewed upon bedroom floors
  synthetic sympathetic shores

Now at the gifted noose revolution in its sharp edge
senate steps run with crimson fleeing flags

crumbling in its dedication
 tremble on its vacated edge
 loyal dignity pleads a rebel end

but I recall that angel drowned
her words, speech her sound
no throne was swallowed
but chariot left to find