keepers

the spirit and the idiot and the blind ram enraged.
the wailing wall, the separating wall. there are no borders between the land of the living and the land of the dead. there are no hearts in men that wouldn’t beat as strongly in the softest lambs. let us sacrifice our selves to the earth and all its keepers. they need our souls and our bloods, they will not know our tears; those are for her our longlost queen mother holiest of holy, skinless flesh her bones showing through her shoulders. we all miss her but we will never forget her love for us, her dripping blood across the sky to create us from the vile emptiness.
there are no borders to her now
she is without us
we are within her.
no wailing, no wall. the spirit of the blind ram killing all before him; pierce him pierce his flesh pierce his lungs. pierce his guts, his throat; his bellows sputter blood from his dry lips and the wounds and yet he still runs and collides with all of the world with everything. within her we see this and we stand back, to cry is to live, to know is to continue. our souls and our bloods are needed. we will not ever live again there are no rains on this dead soil this decay is a stench the spirit is a mist we are all the idiot we are all blinded. the softest lamb with his eyes unopened his mother licking her blood off of him he knows no spirit no idiot no rage. he knows no keepers, knows no pain.

he is the cause and the means for the war we’ve engaged.
the suffering child, the soft lamb to be splayed. eat his beating heart, drink his pumping blood. a fountain it is a spring from out of the earth the cleanest of all things. the spirit and the idiot and the lost cause of old days. there is no night waiting at the end just more war, just an endless haze of dull color without the sun or with it we can’t see through it. it is no wall but yet we are dying. pierce it let us bleed upwards to the stars let the rain come down through; bones showing through shoulders, tender hearted mother. we can not ever forget her. we are the keepers of her memory we are the proof of her pain. enraged, enraged. endless war against the darkness the spirit and the idiot.
rip out our eyes let the sockets fill with rain. our horns know no equal, our hearts feel no pain.

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