"Make a joke and I will sigh
And you will laugh and I will cry..."
- Black Sabbath
---
The odor of sulphur permeating the air
Is no longer subtle but no-one will notice.
Turn gold into mercury, circle the square,
Speak only in cipher, trade only in nonsense.
All riddles look simple for those who know
The answers beforehand - stand up and try harder.
Grief grows in twilight like phosphoric glow -
Feels good to be scorned, ridiculed, disregarded.
You talk to the wind from eroded cliffs
Where silence stings deeper than insults and iron.
The new-found home for your faith and beliefs
Is neither the temple of reason nor Zion.
13.08.11
