Emma Bleak

there’s something funny about people nowadays

oh how I long for a renaissance 

do you remember the days when art was beautiful?
and we never heard of butterflies devouring flesh

we worshiped fickle gods with funny names
and courted beautiful women 

we knew the sound of death at a young age
(but I suppose that part hasn’t really changed)

men sang of young maids 
surrounded by flowers

never mentioning those soft
but sharp butterfly kisses

sweet roses around each neck
to mask the stench of death 

oh how I long for a renaissance

of men?
of art?
of love?
of suffering?
of life?
fuck it

for now I guess I’ll just finish my whiskey

and dream of the days of warm mead
and maidens with flowers in their hair
(butterflies in tow)

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