your vision, your voice
The lady in the crimson coat
With its scars and its patches and its holes,
The sweetest sorrow of a golden throat
That will never know what it is to be whole.
Penny dreadful meets every reason to let go,
Capturing the fireflies in bell jars and wells of hearts,
Mourning them like Poe.
We evolve and we grow as we go,
From a tiny seed planted in the dirt,
To a centuries old Sequoia,
Rooted deep within the earth.
Stretch our branches far and wide,
Choose a label, choose a side,
Echo their ghosts, and praise their gods-
No homeland for unholy thoughts.