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《Tropical Depression》Heaven To Hell

/For Florence Welch, Author of Useless Magic. This is the most Chaotic work yet, faithful to her character./

Florence Welch looked like Jesus twirling in beautiful dresses.

My dam of prayers

would dare break,

and am an altar

by daybreak,

wicks fresh from cessation-

My parents spread God's word faster than these diseases.

& I sang her songs,

spreading slow,

in low oceanic vibrato

calling Internet

sailors in incantation-

"When I decided to wage holy war, it looked very much like staring at my bedroom floor."

Her lyrics lofted from my mouth.

And my soul went south- From each floor of sadness I stumbled down the spiral stairs, spiraling and spiraling,

Until I breached the basement of hell.

And no mouth could tell-

the password I whispered was the name of God-

Don't you know that I know him all my life?

Durante dos décadas!

And I entered.

My soul severed-

For within the basement was a wine collection-

Of pressed forbidden fruits fresh from Eden-

And I uncorked, and took a sip,

And I was even, with God.

For I now know him, and he knows me.

For I love him, and he loves me.

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