Waters wall

Longer than Hadrian

comes the wall of bruises

and isolation.

So pale in your whiteness,

so pure each concrete brick.



Started out fatherless

but gained a wild maternal.

Protection for your

sensitivities to come

in despaired decadence.



Fear consumed veils

of so called education

ringing through all hope.

Repressed creativity

in all it's longing glory.



Years struggle on

like the broken winged Fly

crawling through the earth.

Success marginalised

by deep rooted diseased tree's.



You drove away wife

to the arms of another,

forgetting existence.

Your pleas unheard in the rain,

scalded and boomeranged back.



Through a calm numb pulse

the Worms call as soul searchers,

claiming you in arms.

Their irressitable grasp,

the facist that lives within.



As you merge into

the point of no return,

a stop sign appears.

Your mask to be judged

by the kingdom of ugliness.



Sentenced to nakedness

amongst fallible mourners,

you become a child.

Once more a return to soul

where the Artist lingers.