Link to article: Eating Honey in the Rain.
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[[include :scp-wiki:theme:simple-yonder]] [[include :scp-wiki:component:info-ayers |lang=en[!-- EN/RU/KO/CN/FR/PL/ES/TH/JP/DE/IT/UA/PTBR --] |page=scp-XXXX[!-- url of your page on the scp wiki --] |authorPage=http://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/amelie-wright-s-author-page |comments=Any additional comments (image sources, crit credits, whatever) ]] [[>]] [[module rate]] [[/>]] [[=]] Oh, how gentle the fruit is from the Moon's sweet carcass, as if harvested from the giant maw of a bee stung beast Mandibles dripping wet with honeysuckle Flung away, far off things, abandoned by the old men, who had watched by the sea shore - as the beast rose to height Devouring the remains of the flesh to the sun As the world men watched Eating honey in the rain. [[/=]] [[=]] It was the end of sorrow. The end of lies. Haggard women walked through the deserted carriages shouting, Hath! Hath the emperor laughs! How could he have laughed! [[/=]] [[=]] The haggard carriagewomen saw in the half-light, the shadowed corpse of the grey woman; holding her palm up toward the black landscape. Her waist is strongly canted. Her forehead is wrinkled. It looks sullen. Its half-human, half-possessed, poisoned face – mouth half-ocean – has all of the features of the emperor's gun-man, shooting black-fire [[/=]] [[=]] On the day, as the nursewoman flee the carriage, laughing in the ashen soot, gunpowder and foggy day-light that came down from the country. Emperors don't admire themselves alone with mirror glass. They admire their troops! The bullets! The more war they enjoy, more that is fought- the more victories they win! The more astride their monstrous formed chariots, the more glorious their trumpets, hawking a victory! Oh, for the end of sorrow- wake the emperor up, and kiss the haggard carriagewomen. The haggard carriage wrench, gave to all Mary, and lord, reaped from a womb spilt with honey. [[/=]] [[=]] St. Mary clutches her breast, looking down at the blue azure sky, cerulean waves crashing upon her hazel eyes, golden cross, green fringes. Blue fishes, singing the soul of the Lord and god. Mary, her soul a' blaze with eggs of white [[/=]] [[=]] Another girl- Mildred, laying her dear, true and jest-like babes, across lost lost hair-worm's nest, singing to her [[/=]] [[=]] King, his soul a' lustre-reared to the altar Floating in his swan's breast Cried with bewailing and rambling fervour Jesus, in his expression and name He stands, for every eye, in every beholder, For every face in all the world. He stands And speaks, in eloquent eloquence That most heavenly doctrine of peace, That men's hearts should be moved [[/=]] [[=]] Says Mary, sweet of the soul Upon the breast of Mildred rose Bring new world Into flesh above Free from your jaw. [[/=]] [[=]] Oh, on the dreary days of blue leaves suckled by the tiger's great breasts, dropped with the soul of honeydew-laden coyote, [[/=]] Only recalled to me the moving figure — the snow-blue wings, blue eyes. Here was the blades of the grass days Let me look at the days of grassen-blue and so I can Talk to you Feel you Hug you Kiss the tiger's maw Understand you Cock-a crow, three times in the darkest hour Singing our song- As we sung, and danced and sing joy Clouds of chlorine dioxide flood our lungs Suffocatingly bright But that pales in the moments we shared Together Right? As I Talks to you Felt you Hugged you Kissed the tiger's maw Understood you Although I ask, that we could still be together, in health fair, breathing in days of grassen-blue dropped with the soul of honeydew-laden tiger's eye. Mary wept. The war outside is raging and it is already lost. On to victory! [[=]] Yet you with steel guns and roses Continue the losing fight As if a thorn-covered beast Stung with honey and lead Will not come to the surface, But still dies at night, Like summer fires on ancient deserts And in death, one will find the bullets Dug out of the rosary-woman's temple Crushed by the jaws of a great tiger in the heavens And you will ask to fight again. [[/=]] [[=]] A traveler stops, You've reached out to me Haven't you With the carcass of the moonlight Falling snow into my soul As the war rages Across the papers, 'ruined streets of Sarajevo', The bomb in Myanmar The clouds of aqauamarine haze under the disheveled roads of London The triumphs over the war-men To create after war To forget and let old wounds heal Let there be joy. So Join us. Won't you Or at least Remember us. [[/=]] [[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box]] [!-- N/A (No Images) --] [[include :scp-wiki:component:license-box-end]]