The Unrung Bell

Foul is this feeling As it navigates the bones And comes to me as softly and as sweetly as a melody Through a murder hole Vespers of violence recorded in tongues From larynxes of larks are sung Atop the belfry of history up which we climb so desperately Breaking every rung The unrung bell tolls Blinded by the sensation As it pierces flesh and bone And comes as suddenly and sullenly as a melody unaccompanied Through a murder hole L'appell du vide and the scent of sunlight through your hair Is beckoning and bargaining and pushing farther our retreat Blindfolded down spiral stairs The unrung bell tolls Bombardment of disharmony at a trillion frames per second Floods the mirror with enmity and dangle bliss in suspension Wading chest high Harbor of soul Beaconcrest light Flickers in rhythm to the unrung bell's toll