Foul is this feeling
+
As it navigates the bones
+
And comes to me as softly and as sweetly as a melody
+
Through a murder hole
+
Vespers of violence recorded in tongues
+
From larynxes of larks are sung
+
Atop the belfry of history up which we climb so desperately
+
Breaking every rung
+
The unrung bell tolls
+
Blinded by the sensation
+
As it pierces flesh and bone
+
And comes as suddenly and sullenly as a melody unaccompanied
+
Through a murder hole
+
L'appell du vide and the scent of sunlight through your hair
+
Is beckoning and bargaining and pushing farther our retreat
+
Blindfolded down spiral stairs
+
The unrung bell tolls
+
Bombardment of disharmony at a trillion frames per second
+
Floods the mirror with enmity and dangle bliss in suspension
+
Wading chest high
+
Harbor of soul
+
Beaconcrest light
+
Flickers in rhythm to the unrung bell's toll
+
