The Thorn Birds

Once
someone told
a story of these small desert birds
throwing themselves in thorns
when copulating in lust

And while embraced by death
they sing so fine (then never)
And while embraced by death
they stay in love forever.

Like martyrs do
they dedicate their lifes in deep vain
of ancient vows
and die of flaring ardour in haze

Thorns.
They lurk on roses
stem.
They do intend no harm

Them.

Squeezing me hard
In thorns that burn like fire inside
Thrilling my head

(until they rip my shivering skin.)

Thorns.
They lurk on roses
stem.
They do intend no harm

Them...

They lurk on bodies
stem
They make my heart arise...
Them.



(Relieve your minds
What the hell happened?
You can't have it...
Can you feel it in your minds?)




Tonight you sleep in hell.



Wumpscut: Thorns
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There is a legend about a bird
which sings just once in its life,
more sweetly than any other creature on the face of the earth.
From the moment it leaves the nest it searches for a thorn tree,
and does not rest until it has found one.
Then, singing among the savage branches,
it impales itself upon the longest, sharpest spine.
And, dying, it rises above its own agony to outcarol the lark and the nightingale.
One superlative song, existence the price.
But the whole world stills to listen,
and God in His heaven smiles.
For the best is only bought at the cost of great pain....
Or so says the legend.


The Thorn Birds, Colleen McCullough
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What can I say that hasn't already been said?


Media: Graphite and colored pencil.