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-_the.great.dying_-
Here's that other poem, entitled the Great Dying.
Great Dying
The mirrors reflect the lovers
Who burn with numb fires
Of dance
Of disease
Of passion
With a trenchant snowfall surrounding
Their catacombs,
Working as lithium
Besmirching their cancerous sorrows
A sovereign plague, wrought with
Dyspnea
Stimulates and enchants the
Vigilant poet’s mind
Gusts of pain
Serve not as the wrath
Of a cruel God
But as songs yet to be sung
And threads yet to be woven together-
The blazing sigh of a dragon
Yet to be heaved
This time I think I said snowfall and mirrors. Can't remember.
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