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, by corey oconnell
Robert L. Martin

Rhythm Frenzy

 
Power into power into power into power,
power with black and silver teeth,
set into motion with drums of fire and ice
with satanic fangs and thunder cannons
firing cannon balls with penetrating teeth
to slice through the flesh and into the heart
and bypass the mind and run through the veins
and take over the inner domain of the heart
as the frenzied dancers dance,
 
guitars screaming from the pulsating kicks
and the basses dancing with them in stride,
a fraternal orgy under the spirit’s command,
a home of rhythmic sons and daughters,
a marriage of mutual giving and receiving,
a passion manufactured from the frenzied rhythms
that keep surging ahead through thorns and thickets
in its red and black rivers that run
in and out of satanic homes,
an eternal rolling until the ends of time
that still lingers in the hearts after the dancers dance
 
and the command that it has in the soul,
its dominance over all other thoughts and actions,
its driving force that drives the dancers to forget,
its hammering that hammers through titanium walls,
its passion that seeps into the inner rooms
of the empty house that floats
on a new sea of passion,
 
a take over of melody and harmony,
a tearing down of the structures they built,
a new spirit erected by the elimination of the two,
a new intelligence that formed from the rhythm,
a new dominance, a new age, a new music,
but a power that drives the dancers to dance,
to take them into the wilds and forget themselves
and never want to came back to the old again.

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