Sun of Endings

Go and don’t come back. Go away to your back-alley nuisance of a tragic ending.In final words of utter elucidation, I feel it’s universal, like a lake full of dynamite.I feel it to be right this way, the quaintest of blood, rolled into a bright night.
I feel your décolletage so close to my hands, a crushing of imperial momentum.I grasp, despicably, the irony of these self-guided fires. I exhale tiresome, the gale of your known belief. I sovereign, rule all of your flaming blasphemies.
Do not rebuff your own twinge, our own overpowering, throbbing, full-fledged drug.It’s scarlet of steel, stainless steel like those arms of a thousand apparatus of hope.It’s been around forever, kissing underneath all of your slaves.Maybe soon, you’ll reverie of white spirit.
Someday, you’ll do the best you can, the best of runs in some old stale Vegas death casino.But never today. Not wasting my love.Today, all of the blistering truths won’t do my hell. Own another personal bereavement, manslaughter in someone elses nameless humankind.I know too fucking well, those knives drenched in ruby thirst.I knew too well, where the up stall was. The up stall of a final looming weirdness, too fucked up to die, too dead to exist.Like the never coming pre-dawn chaos of all faith and filth.