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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