Poetry

Flicker

Feel that ancient terror

Creep across your skin

Stifle your voice

And chill your bones

Undertow

This is a shrine

To the best intentions

The great redesign

For which we are the indemnitee


Empty Nest

I watched the robin nest

As I entered the den

Of the lions


I wish them well

They wish to take my life


Involuntary

Bubbling miasma in the void

From which I sprung forth

To grasp at the promise of existence

To my lament

Deviating

The new abnormal

An acceptable aberration

The construct’s inflammation

A bold conflagration

Firefly

Chasing those fireflies

Lights that flicker in the dark

Guiding you home

To the abyss

Torpor

Lulling the sheep

To sleep

The mesmerizing hands

Of the puppeteers

Ashes

When the lies never stop

When revolution becomes the puppet of the top

When your promised future is just lies and slop

We are left with not but ashes

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