Saturday, April 16, 2011


Cartographers do not dare
Dream routes for this importation

Hidden realms of exploitation
From sandy dunes to barren hills

Beneath mountains of clay and sand
To the jungles of infested men,

Across valleys of infertile field

Through the burnt remnants where
Once completed mass was heard

Ivory pews aligned side by side
Glass stained windows for angels to observe

Sponge to the hairline
Sign to the stations what shall be crossed

Repenting and seeking salvation,
Hoping and praying for acceleration

Through a life unknown,
A plot less sown

I cannot bear witness to those I love least of all,
Those men who smudge cursory images

To the name of you that died there on that day
For my sins, all you gave, all that was taken from thee

I shall not let them speak slurs of ye

My intent was not a violent song,

It was not my will to stir battle on,
Only state position,

Placing next move within your very court

But do not withdraw your impetus,

Do what seems appropriate,

And if needed I shall respect,

Seeing such a choice is met with similar ambition,

I shall invoke each bit of strength
Every ounce of sweating vengeful sentiment

I shall transform when cornered,
And a violent song then will sing indeed

No comments:

Post a Comment