Calluses of the MindbyIcor©
Gold, touched shores of one ocean stretched in election,
Churned heaps, full, complete and mundane perfection,
Prime examples of dead symbols, keys, and cold whispers,
Washed by salt a seaside grave with lovely, winter blisters.
Pale, sinful delusion nailed to shady scars and corroded dreams,
Deprived of destructive desires linger memories, hanging on melting seams,
Historical, malcontented hopes protested endlessly by every graining, white stain,
Blue flags peek in praise of a powerful, sky-dusted moon against the watery plain.
Bouquets rot in black tar, set with skinless, clattering bodies,
Broken bones speak for broken tears, weeping light melodies,
One deaf, white petal of their soul-strung art laugh at heavens, hymns,
Living for no one, suffering guilty burdens, pleasured spirits, and dims.