all the worldly riches surround
filling layers upon layers of naked flesh
yet the crown still lays bare, forgotten
the crowning epi-tome still missing
stories of broken hearts and fruitless ideas
stacked tome upon tome written in blue blood
sit gathering dust in corners of sunken marbles
no written word can describe such loneliness
have you ever heard a whale cry?
a soul wrought with desire, scorned with loss
the presto and andante of every
beat each second marks discontinuous discourse
that thing which worldly riches cannot buy
not touch, nor taste, nor sight, nor heard
in these tomes lies the crown that sits upon the crown
shivers of feelings intratomized
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