In the bin of these days straggling to escape this fox maze
Depressed over events drenched in old regrets
So rung dry the idea of drinking them for one last
Parch busting desert molecule of liquid refreshment
To satiate for an oasis of pity drowning in the sands of living
This vagabond life and gritty teeth fight with the spite
Of ten thousand men going to war for their god
In a blanket faced angry mob, to avenge and ascend
Into a higher calling over this hate, those days have burned
And singed on the pavement sands of what I use to believe in
That faith is gone and misted away and that love for self-hate
Is a fairy mirage, a trickster on a whim lost and gone
In the playground of a former lie and former life and former wife
Prancing in the muck swamps of torture and romp
On all on the foxes whimpering in the barrels
Instead of leaping and biting and nipping and crunching
Those bitch nymph wings like dragon fly munch things
To be disposed of and moved on from: this depression
Is not something to run from, but embraced with the fervor
Of a warrior’s grace and shed her blood in the race
To proclaim that those seasons of summer drinks in the Sahara of my everything
Are over that I don’t need that shot glass of pity to keep this valley from weeping
I can rest and rest and find the excess to take my peace like a sword from its sheath
And slay the vile horde amass in insect stores of abdomens
Puffed in the swell of my own blood, drinking their milkshake punctures
As if I was their whore putting out decency for the route
And I give you this nuclear fall out, the infection of pity in my stream
Is no longer deemed necessary for my daily confessionary constitution
To my evolutionary contributions to become this butterfly me
Fly up out of this dune dotted den and this gray fox has wings and will never
Submerge in that barrel again
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