raison d'etre

just a promise 

that lingers

through a unknown raison d'etre

the leap,

into which all relentlessly 

surrenders

(at dusk)

servant of the slime,

from this damp prison cell

i learned my lesson well

this time

our perfection

comes scalloped 

in every features

sinister's sisters

came to pay us 

promises

with their wide open veins

where wise men once spoke 

with indifference

calling out for a cure, in deliverance

to makes us forget

that we're at the edge

(of a shipwreck everyday)

a lethal dose to stumble, 

eye to an eye to suppress this fray

challenging those men 

to deny their evading treads

- to defy all the distorted voices, 

a slashing rumble in a day

The Trapeze, by Max Beckmann (1923)