Winter Song

The snow on your eyelids that curtsy with age

Is freezing the stares on tyranny's wings.

The bitter is hard and the warmth of your skin

Is diseased with familiar caresses.

Withdrawing from splendor and royal decay

Among all the triumphs and jaded awards

The angry and blazing circus of sun

Blasphemes as the crown prince arises.

You cannot beget all the sins that you owe

To the people of paradise magic

Pretend to answer passion and form

With foreign rationalizations.

Primroses are the jewels that lurk

Among masks of pleasure that flicker with doubt

Embraces of fame that's simultaneously fear

To advance and demand to be recognized.

The river shall flow through hollow green faces

Of caricature's resentment etched out of the tongues.

Both reluctant princess asleep before birth

The classical sensitive failures.

The worshipping wicked cling to the dark of your heart

Lying there and wait with your angels

Moan and ravish from dawn to dusk

The avaricious young lovers.