Clown of Spirits

i know you believe that the light is delicate,
for sorrow and anger can beat your drums louder
drunk on wine and beer, the spirits who enter
stumble your straight pace into crooked arrow
i cannot hear you there, but only hear cackling
crows who caw caw caw know your death’s crackling
throat caught in the wine of a gurgling gullet
laughter from stomachs drowned in sullen sadness
your crowds approve red nose, red eyes and cheeks
the clown that was your father’s deadly weakness
but i cannot see you there, just a room of ghouls
with the door open wide for hearing heavenly souls
mighty love by the power of lightening and the light
to burn the stench down, a sick sire’s cursed sight.

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