On The Morrow's Next Sleep

I wished upon
A fish so bright
It tasted of cherries
Green with hatred
So miraculous as to
Be born of Life's
Little daggers dripping
With the blood of lovers
So pure as to be
Blackened over coals
Roasting flesh in
The sky where monsters
Swim and sing and
Wait to be wished
Upon by Me.

To wish on Evil's good fish
Is better than to pray upon
A heaven's fallen dog
Ravaged by Time's sands
Whose scoring blast is
Based in a place where
No child dares to
Play because of
Strawberries red rot
And the seeds of
Watermelons
Fetidly grow at a rate likened
To an Angel's ascent to Hell
Where Men drink like Kings
And Women eat like Queens
And both prey on each other
So as to prove the point
Of the fish and cast out the dog.

I wish I may
I wish I might
Be able to close
My Eye this very night
And see roses of the rainbow
Instead of the conjured
Demons of my mind
Within a gore filled void
So easily reached that
All is forgotten in a spark.

But I wake slowly
Remembering all and yet
Nothing except that
The stars are like hope and
The moon like peace where
Dreamers will go on
The morrows next sleep.