Anionted

Conscripted bearing an undecorated throat

 Quartz shoulders though not a soldier

 Dispatched by the Architect’s cradling eyes

 Granted checkpoint clearance system wide

 Marching with taught spring inside

 No one to check your hand sufficiently sanctified

 All precious metals thrown at you from On High

You will remain saturated while most will have died

Wearing a cloak that punched your ticket to the other side

Where peace abides and all tears are dried and war subsides

-2013.11.24

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Aphasia

Had
I the luxury

I
would get down on my knees

And
plead for mercy

The
end of misery

Then
on all fours on the floor

And
finally prostrate at the grate

To
splash through to the

Gutter
where I’ll know not

What
to utter

That
then your spirit beseech

For
me exactly what I need

To
make it another day

Please
grant the luxury

Of
tears that are sweet

Rolling
down my face

Leaving
a trace of a taste

You’ll
not despise

Do
not cover your eyes

To
this heart that is broken

Due
to the words that

Must
remain unspoken

-2013.11.17