Are there any human stories left
To set the fires in our heart
Have we walked across the coals
In faith
Or turned the cinders of our weeping
Into blood
And they said that man is sleeping
Beneath the imprisoned eyelash of a woman
And we had nothing left to share
We had nothing left to dare
As if we were buried beneath her tears
Of misunderstood
Was it those tactile fingertips
Told us there was so much more than this
A coloured voodoo, and if you do
And only if you will to
Could you
Reach between their touch
And break the salted seal; of a kiss
And less would be the life we lead and all we need
Would be
Far too much
So you follow in the paper chase
The tatter and the fritter in a life of waste
Battering at the sinew
Of some illusive intoxication spelled out in all the syllables of
L .
O.
V.
E …
It’s not that you don’t have the time to dream
But all our dreams are filled with pain
Beneath the presence of almighty God
Have we ever stopped to question what
And why
We all live in fear so much
Driven by the concocted spell
Of life’s never ending death
Submission Name: Intoxiconcoction 
