What’ll happen if the hex is lifted?
What’ll come of all the shadows in the evening
Selling faith in sermons whispered under stolen breaths?
What would come of me in all the light?
What sort of eyes could be contented
Disregarding rhetoric of blacker
Shades in which they’ve slept,
Intoxicated by the luster of a tear
Falling neglected in the darkness.
What’ll fall if sunrise takes?
What’ll pass in hours of day that dusk could never offer
But a brighter pitch to cauterize the wounds and set the scars?
What would come of all the letters?
What state would all the lyrics take
When seeing unrestricted ushers
Homilies through lucid truths,
Illuminating hollows where illusion
Seeps sedately in my sleep?
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