The glorious verse

This started out as a series of unconnected lines I wrote.
This is as close to a philosophical tract as I may muster.
I imbued it with malice.

The Glorious Verse...  

If I can’t get a muse,

An archenemy will do for me just as well.

I walk beside the river,

Through the membrane, fingers reach for me.

I’m a collection of atoms.

Put together to witness astrophysics and cruelty.

There's a crack in my ribcage

To put a cassette in, to playback my same position.

Like a pinned moth on a board

I’m uncomfortable and in need of a physician.

[Break]  

In this lecture theatre

We are both the studious and the studied.

A flash of the Pale Cutter's needle,

Neat stitching transforms us into what we are. 

A last exhale

slipping its mooring rope, roadkill, a cadaver.

[Break]  

If I require a reason,

I am surrounded by a past so have to not seek any further. 

I know, I know, I know, but you
and your woe can go right on ahead and fuck one another.

I try to claw at time.

Tremble as she shapes her legs along her parallel universe.

[the glorious verse]

I'm well aware.
I'm only too well aware of this.
After love there is loss and God only knows what we miss out on.

I’ve found no redeeming qualities in moral redemption:

They place a jar, ring a salt circle, make a flame small.

I've discovered no hopes in falsehoods masking desperation:

A world of physical tenderness
is the most mournful gift to the lonesome of all.

And I know about it,
I know only too well all about it.
Won't expect your mercy in your all enduring judgment.

And I know all about it.
How people shift into better; into worse.

When she steals my gaze in amber, I hear the glorious verse.