When I die.
23rd June 2018
When I die a deathly death of dark all hallowedness and that veil falls all clear and proud, I want you to scream.
Scream until the crows of hell themselves all run and hide.
Scream until the graves turn on their sides.
Scream loud like every Harley that’s ever kicked up dust.
Scream like a second husbands lack of trust.
Like the Eiffel tower doesn’t rust and through the rain and sleet and snow, through every tale that death can show, through every diseased town you have to go.
Stand tall and scream until the fire in the gates of hell perspires, that’s where my eyes are.
When I die a deathly death of dark all Hallowedness and that veil falls all clear and proud, scream me up a motherfucking shroud!
Balm me in your fury.
Warm me with your aggression.
Shower me in might before I leave a great impression.
I’m coming back on Monday in the reflection that you’ll miss.
I’ll reach right out and claim you in a possessed silent kiss.
© G.P Williamson 2018