Grave Fish

Fractured...
The freckled darkness,
a drugged howl splits
its garden in the sky
as rainbows cross black holes,
the hero has arrived
for the love of babies and princesses.
No more mysteries
or melanomas or cancer jacks
frozen to casket beds.
Queue for cure
bow to legends,
there be sympathy in the wilderness of sorrow.
Saviours fight
and martyrs die to keep young things
from sin.

On earth we are bonded,
as helpless as the belly
of a worm,
grounded to graves whilst spirits bounce.
And yet a jewelled space awaits our tomes
our hopes,
a place of eye dolls and idols
where satellites have nver been.
Pretty things don't grow old
or fade
or wish for bombs.
And girls never fall for heroes.

Would grief destroy faith?
Howl again to God to please Him.
Simple people
walking into comas,
cry darling nomad.
Sadness can be such a rage
and this odd world needs emotion
(and villains),
needs passion.
This world wants
both terrorists and lovers to make it
through the silk...

@Steve Francis Poems 2002