A WOLF, A GUN
In your dream, your hair is dancing, off-key tributes twine, entrancing The crackling hum of waves of light, coarsing through your veins like snakebite Children shivering like a paused VHS, angry furniture fills the room with stress Pummel problems we can't diagnose, morse code clocking ticks out threatening odes Singing Ooh, I'm a wolf, I am a gun in your home There was a time there was a God who hung his world on your facade Fingers thrumming ribs like strings, scripture spread from spine like wings Then the words burned off the page, flames warping sound in crackled rage A smoking book, a mumbled moral, filled with pseudo-sense in quarrel Screaming Ooh, I'm a wolf, I am a gun in your home Shadow babble, TV tongue, spirit throttled, left unsung Harps of doubt are fully strung, breath of cynic spins in lung The facade world now gone unhung, Sunday bells all mute, unrung But inspiration's found among dreams and colors of the young Singing Ooh, I'm a wolf, I am a
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