Ids Beneath the Cellar Door

Ids Beneath the Cellar Door by artwork, writing, & poetry by Jacob Wayne Bryner | Make Your Own Book

Last Dance

Last Dance

Low, Let go, don't refresh your anger.  Must you rethink compromise?  So slow your wish of torment, you see me and lose sight.  So precious, your anger, you trip on temptations.  Let it go, set it free, forget all about me.

The evil dead run lose in your head, videos play, innocently amazed, by the fine line between democracy and blasphemy, children playing innocently.

Go John Doe!  Your losing identity!  You're dancing here so sensually.  I saw you then and know you now, so precious, don't deny the sound.  

The evil dead run schools in your bed, magazines read so innocently, amazed by the fine line between fucking and loving, the dancer dances constantly.