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« Gyroscope »
In Flames

Geology is digging through
my brain
a manta engulfing the world
to throw it up once again
to a guild of a lifted dagger

Neo-wolf but older again
than the Lupus itself
linked its fur to the gyroscope of time
a collection of failures

A diabolical sequences of stabs
written in cunning stone
from the fossilised of thieves
our lives dies

I see the nursing all-mother
spitting out a trail of termites
in the mouth of her first-born hope
breast ripe with smog-filled rebellion

Apathy dressed in violence
white insectoid legs
curse her lips and mouth
receptive only to pain