Singing the prayer.

by G

These whispering voices in my head have all begun to sing.
Praying out the nocturnal clues on who has what to bring.
Because I sank in our prospecting needles to withdraw the thick liquid in the wings of the world.
A ever watchful eagle eye to drag the dial toward the numeric equation until its slurred.

Just our dimensions exist in the clockworks inside veils of choices.
But I never will nor could wind back the dial for the exchange of a halo.
Its why toxins smile for us during invitation so to say stain the blood white when pricks merge with unattended skin.

They come through dark light to pierce the curious eyes.
The reason cluster phobic razors smile is because the wrists are always smiling with them.
12 hours toward a siren 12 hours back to a life in sunken error.
But the voices in my head still sing the prayer.

Just a little bit of wooden steel will fix the softest bed.
The last place I thought you will ever sleep grown into the ground.
But the friends of a razor and needles will leave you alone in this place.
Walk away without them dead child evident source of the worst.